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. HALE’S MONUMENT. 

The above is a view of the monument erected to the memory 
of Capt. Nathan Hale, which was completed in Coventry, 
Conn., his native town, in the summer of 1847. It is constructe 1 
of Quincy granite, is forty-five feet high, was erected at a cost of 
four thousand dollars^ is a most creditable affair to its projectors, 
and one that will claim the gratitude of posterity. 






THE 


AMERICAN SPY, 


OR 


FREEDOM S EARLY SACRIFICE 


A Tale of the Revolution, 



Founded upon Fact. 

Y Ja!<v R^. SIMMS, 

The History of Schoharie County,” ‘^-Border Wars 
'f New York,” ‘‘Trappers of New York,” &c. 


“:How beautiful is death, when earned by virtue 1 
VWho would not sleep with those ? What pity is it 
^That we can die but once to save our country.”— Addison’s Cato. 


ALBANY: 

J. MUNSELL, 78 STATE STREET. 



Entered according Cdn|«88 in the year 1846, 

BY J. R. SIMMS, 

In the Clerk’s office for the Northern District of New York. 


Large Paper Copy. 

Only 28 Copies printed in this Form. 
Price I Dollar. 


1 


TO 

ISAIAH TOWNSEND, ESQ., 

A GENTLEMAN FOND OF LETTERS, 

AND WHO CAN JUSTLY APPRECIATE THE MOTIVES THAT PROMPTED 

THEIR WRITING, 

THE FOLLOWING PAGES ARE RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 

BY HIS FRIEND, 


THE AUTHOR 



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INTRODUCTION. 


The American Revolution brought out upon the stage of action many men 
of distinction and worth, who are, as yet, but little known to the general 
reader; not a few of whom were gallant sons of Ne^v England. Of this 
number was the hero named in the following pages, whose real character 
is here by no means overdrawn. A desire to interest young readers in the 
early history of the country, and at the same time do justice, in some degree, 
to the ennobling virtues of a brave man, has prompted the writing of the fol- 
lowing tale, a greater proportion of which w’ill be found not doing violence 
to truth than it is usual to meet with in pictures to which imagination has 
lent its assistance. 

Several customs of the times have been introduced, such as still live in the 
memory of the aged, and which it maybe well for the American people to 
note, as the habits of life are constantly subjected to innovation and change, 
by the comparative infancy of the country, and the eagerness of the great 
mass of community to try the last experiment, or adopt the latest fashion. 
The most fastidious moralist can not, as we trust, be either shocked or of- 
fended by the perusal of this story, should it fail to compensate for its reading. 

Many who write novels, labor to weave scenes which the greatest stretch 
of imagination could hardly suppose real. The reader will readily perceive 
however, that such has not been the aim of the author of this tale, but that 
he has rather sought, so far as possible in the space allotted, in the most fa- 
miliar language, and probable figures, 

\ 

“ To weave the deathless evergreen 
Around the name of Hale.” 


Fultonville, N. Y., 1846. 


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THE AMERICAN SPY. 


CHAPTER 1. 

“And yet I find no words to tell 
The shape of her I loved so well.” — Byron, 

“ Samuel, I spent the last vacation of old Yale with you, and 
trusting you will fulfill one of the many promises you have made 
to visit our family, I shall expect you to spend the approaching 
classic holidays with me. I much regret that the illness of my 
sister prevents me from staying out the last week of this term — 
but, as Jute orders, I submit, and shall hasten home to unite my 
prayers with those of fond parents, for the recovery of one whose 
life is dearer to me than my own.” At the close of the above 
sentence, a tear moistened the eye of the speaker; and seizing 
the hand of his friend, he added in a low voice, in which sympa- 
thy and reproof were mingled — “ You have so often expressed a 
determination to visit me without doing so, that I could wish for 
once you would bear in mind my simple motto, and — ” 


8 The American Sp^, 

“ Now cousin Nate,” interrupted Samuel, pardon past short- 
comings, and I promise to render myself more deserving of your 
friendship. I have quite too long deprived myself of the plea- 
sures in store forme in Coventry, and shall, if possible, visit you 
within a fortnight. You will carry my regards to all the family, 
and write me the state of Elizabeth’s health on your arrival at 
home. But I had nearly forgotten, my dear fellow, that you was 
about to tell your own motto, which must be a fastidious morsel — 
pray what is it?” 

^^JYever lieP^ 

“ Well Nate, you have indeed adopted a very conscientious 
one, and were I a prophet I would predict that it is broken more 
than once before you shake off flesh and blood; why, it’s shorter 
than the shortest of rebel mottoes now going the rounds. The one 
originated in Rhode Island the other day by a sprig of wisdom, 
and mooted for its brevity, has ominous words — Join or die! 

and were I to correct it, it would read, Disjoin and live! But I 
am about to dash off into politics I see, which we will discuss 
hereafter. Here’s the hand of true friendship, and as that clumsy 
old wagon is now waiting for you with your classmate, Newton, 
already in, a match to your motto in brevity is — goodbye 

Reader, the young friends to whom we have thus unceremoni- 
ously introduced you, were cousins, as you may have inferred. 

Samuel was the only son of John Hale, of New Bedford, Massa- 
chusetts; and Nathan was the fifth son of Deacon Richard Hale, 


Or, Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 9 

of South Coventry, Connecticut. The Hale brothers, for such 
were Richard and John, were descended from respectable ances- 
try, and were noble specimens of New England men in the mid- 
dle of the eighteenth century. John, the elder of the brothers, 
was a lawyer of some repute, and early in life established himself 
in business at New Bedford, where he subsequently became a 
colonial officer of some kind under pay of the British govern- 
ment. Richard, having married Elizabeth Strong, a meritorious 
young lady of his own town, settled down upon the homestead, 
and proved himself a good practical farmer. The beginning of 
difficulties between England and her American colonies, found 
the Hale brothers entertaining different opinions respecting the 
policy their own country should pursue. In other words John 
was a and Richard a Republican, Newton, mentioned 

as the classmate of Nathan Hale, was a son of Erastus Fitch, of 
Windham, Connecticut; the latter being a descendant of James 
Fitch, one of the founders of that town. 

Between Nathan Hale and Newton Fitch a warm friendship 
existed, which had been nourished by the sports of youth. They 
had often met in Thanksgiving and other visits of the Hale and 
Fitch families, which had for generations reciprocated kindly 
feelings. As students, the young friends received their academic 
acquirements at the same school; and having entered Yale Col- 
lege together, were in one class. They usually rode to and from 
college in the same conveyance; and although the present term 
2 


10 


The American Spy, 


lacked a few days of its completion, still Newton would not con- 
sent to remain and task his friends to send for him — or what is 
quite as likely, his desire again to behold in life one with whom 
he had frolicked in childhood, induced his return. Two young 
men more alike in their dispositions and habits, were probably 
not to be found in all New England. Manly excellence and 
dignity were personified in the personal appearance of Nathan 
Hale. His figure was tall and commanding, his jetty hair curled 
in profusion around a brow of intellectual mould, his countenance 
ever beaming with mildness, was illumined by the fire of a dark 
and penetrating eye, while his uniform deportment was truly 
prepossessing. Young Fitch could not boast o; as genteel a form 
as that of his chum, nor had nature given him as florid a com- 
plexion; yet his was a keen black eye, glossy black hair, and a 
visage in which frankness and affection were happily delineated; 
and if less admired for manly beauty than young Hale, he was 
no less esteemed for his urbanity of manners, and no less respected 
for the proper cultivation of his intellect. 

The wagon bearing the students and drawn by two horses, 
though an uncouth, was a very rare vehicle for the times in any 
part of New England, and as there were at that period no post- 
coaches for the conveyance of travelers, any conveyance furnish- 
ed with a driver was thought by the quiet inhabitants along the 
road, who seldom journeyed much distance from home, a very 
luxurious — indeed, almost aristocratic mode of traveling. The 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrijice, 


11 


spires of the public edifices of New Haven were seen in the dis- 
tance, and yet the classmates had scarcely exchanged a word 
since they had started — Nathan evidently buried in deep study, 
and his friend unwilling from delicacy to break the reverie. But 
they had long been confidants, and Nathan ended the irksome 
silence by expressing his surprise at his cousin’s suggested 
amendment of a then popular motto, relating the latter part of 
his conversation with his kinsman; when, as if a new thought 
had crossed his mind, he added — “Ah, I have the secret! his fa- 
ther is a government officer, and cousin Samuel is inclined to 
favor royalty." The two then exchanged views on several im- 
portant subjects which were agitating the country, and coincided 
in opinion. Both the young patriots, for such in truth they were, 
manifested deep sympathy for their country under her continued 
oppression; and after naming several causes of grievance, among 
which were the Stamp and Tea Acts, the quartering of soldiers 
in seaport towns, and the massacre of several Bostonians by the 
troops under Captain Preston, they again fell into a studious 
silence which was seldom broken until they arrived near Con- 
necticut river, when an unexpected incident sent their thoughts 
into a new channel. 

In a by place, at a little distance from the road and the river, 
a solitary individual was seen with a shovel digging up the 
ground. The attention of the passengers was directed to this 
object by the exclamation of the driver — “5'ee that old fool of a 
money digger 


12 The Ameriran Spy, 

As they arrived opposite the stranger, Nathan, rather more in- 
quisitive than his companion, requested the driver to rein up. 
Leaping from the wagon, the high box of which made the feat 
one of some danger, he ran towards the man who he discovered 
had a foreign appearance, and was about to enquire if he was 
digging a grave; but observing that several holes had been dug 
in a soil not as stony as that of some other parts of the state, 
consequently not unfavorable for sinking a grave, he civilly ac- 
costed him, and enquired in true Yankee style, “ My friend, what 
are you searching for?” 

The digger, who had not ceased his avocation on hearing the 
wagon stop, now did so; and after thrusting his nether garment 
beneath the waistband of his breeches — a liberal portion of which 

garment, for the want of braces, protruded beneath his jacket 

and cramming into one corner of his mouth a leaf of tobacco of 
fearful dimensions, he drew his shovel before him, and placing 
both hands upon it leaned forward, and for some moments con- 
tinued to eye the student without speaking. Having finished a 
very scrutinizing gaze, he thus responded: “ Now, ash I likesh 
yoor looksh, I schall shpeak zo ash I doon’t ouften shpeak mit 

slhrangers. Yoo poorhaps heert von Hans Casper Shtaudl veil, 

dat ish my naume. I kumd vrom Sharraany in dish coonthree 
look for mindsh: veil, I looks droo Noo Inglandt, finds note 
manne—den zoombody saysh to me, von Kit ash vas a birat hides 
moonish in dis blace, zo I kums to fint urn.” 


13 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 

“ Then your name in plain Enpjlish,” said the student, “is John 
Casper Staudt; you are a German chemist who came to New 
England to examine mines, and are now searching for Captain 
Kidd’s money?” 

Shifting the contents of his mouth to the opposite side with an 
ease of contortion that would quite astonish modern tobacco- 
chewers, he quickly responded — “Yah, yah, eekzactly zo. Myn- 
heer.” 

“Well, Mr. Staudt,” said the student, “I am truly gratified to 
meet a German mineralogist in Connecticut, and hope you may 
be successful in obtaining some of Captain Kidd’s gold, yet I fear 
the chances for it are small, as numerous places of its supposed 
secretion, some an hundred miles distant, where that freebooter 
was supposed to have landed, have already been dug over without 
finding any. Two or three miles from my father’s house, under 
the bank of a small river, a spring issues, which appears to flow 
from a mine, as it holds mineral properties of some kind in solu- 
tion; and if ever you come into our neighborhood, 1 will visit 
the locality with you.” 

“ I danks yoo mooch — vot ish yoor naume, den?” 

“ Nathan Hale; and should you ever go to Coventry, enquire 
for the Hale family, to the hospitality of which you shall be made 
welcome.” 

“I danks yoo moor ash mooch, Misthur Ale— I vill gall onto 
yoo ash I goesh dat vay.” 


14 


The American Spy, 


Taking a hasty survey of the manifest labor of the honest 
dupe — he having dug over several rods of ground — and bidding 
him a kind farewell, young Hale again seated himself beside 
his companion, to whom he related the above adventure. 

“ Do you expect to see your German friend again?” enquired 
Fitch. 

“ I should not be surprised to,” said the former. “We are ap- 
proaching a period in the history of this conniry deeply interest- 
ing; one in which men of his character will be called in requi- 
sition in most of the colonies.” 

“ Pray, for what purpose?” 

“ To look up iron to be manufactured into cannon, to find lead 
for bullets, and sulphur for powder.” 

“And do you then suppose a general war of the colonies with 
England, is to follow the disturbances in the Bay colony?” 

surely was the earnest reply, we ever possess the 
privilege of free thinking and free acting again / Do you not 
perceive that so long as the principle of right to tax the colonies 
is maintained, the breach is widened, confidence impaired, and 
we are farther from effecting a reconciliation? And believe me, 
the principle of right to tax the American colonies will never he 
given up ! Plad you attended the spirited meeting in New Haven 
last evening at which were assembled a large number of The 
Sons of Liberty, some of w^hom were pretty old sons, you wmuld 
have heard some animated and able reasoning — some patriotic 
views worth remembering.” 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice. 


15 


“ And was such a sentiment advanced at that meeting?” 

“ Not in so many words; but opinions were expressed which 
squinted bravely that way.” 

The students had repeated occasion to observe the industrious 
habits of their countrymen, so justly proverbial; but little else of 
importance to this narrative occurred during their journey to 
Windham, where they arrived on the afternoon of the second 
day. 

Young Hale halted at Fitch’s to rest his team, and there 
learned, to his gratification, that Lucy Ripley, a step-sister of his 
friend Newton, was then in Coventry with his own sister. An- 
other ride of ten miles brought the students near the close of a 
sultry day to the foot of Prospect Hill, on which stood the Hale 
mansion. The horses had ascended but a few rods, when a large 
dog which lay beside the road unnoticed, sprang impetuously at 
their heads. At his sudden and furious yelping, they were fright- 
ened, sprang aside, and so quickly as to jerk the reins from the 
hand of the driver, who was unprepared for the movement, and 
in another instant they had wheeled about — upset the wagon in a 
ditch, and with the fore wheels of it went dashing down the road 
with a speed only rivaled by that of Morse’s telegraph. By the 
accident, which came with the suddenness of a thunder-clap, the 
driver was landed upon a stone wall and his passenger by the 
roadside beneath the wagon box. Both were a little bruised and 
still more frightened, but soon had regained their senses and their 


16 


The American Spy, 


feet, and were in pursuit of the horses. The runaways were a 
fine span of mettlesome blacks, and now supposed to be ruined, 
but as pjood luck would have it, they ran but a short distance, 
entered a gateway Avhich chanced to be open, brought up in a 
neighbor’s barn-yard, and there stood, trembling like a cedar-top 
in a hurricane. Meeting a messenger with an assurance that the 
horses were uninjured and already secured, Nathan left the driver 
to procure them, and just at twilight, limping a little and covered 
with dust, he reached home on foot, and learning with thankfulness 
of heart that a favorable change in his sister’s health had taken 
place, and that although a burning fever had left her much re- 
duced, she was exercised with no pain, and only required prudent 
care and good nursing to restore her to health. 

The meeting of Nathan with his sister was an affecting one. 
They were devotedly attached; their souls being drawn together 
by a love no sensual desire had fostered — by chords no sinister 
motives had braided. 

After Nathan had been for some minutes leaning over the sick- 
ly form of his sister, regardless of another inmate of the room, 
she feebly articulated the name of her female friend, who, on 
hearing Nathan’s name announced, had retired to a shaded part 
of the room — and in an instant she was at the bedside to tender, 
as she supposed, some needed cordial. 

“ What will you have, dear?” was the earnest inquiry of Miss 
Lucy, in a voice of tenderness and spirit of love. 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice. 17 

“ Nathan,” said the invalid reprovingly to her brother, vt ho had 
stepped back from the bed as the nurse approached, “ do you not 
remember Lucy Ripley? do not for the world neglect one so kind, 
so devoted.” At the recollection of her almost constant attention 
and watchfulness for the last ten days, the feeling heart of the 
speaker yielded to nature; she sobbed audibly, while tears of gra- 
titude trickled fast through her transparent fingers; and for a little 
time her emotions threatened the separation of her gentle spirit 
from its enfeebled tenement. But proper restoratives were ap- 
plied — her nerves were quieted, and she sunk into a gentle slum- 
ber, which proved the most salutary rest she had experienced 
during her sickness. 

After Nathan saw his sister quiet, taking the soft hand of Lucy 
in his own, he led her to a seat across the room; and, as a tear 
glistened in his manly eye — offering an apology for not sooner 
inquiring after her, he expressed his thankfulness for her solicitous 
attentions to his sister, for which he trusted Heaven would some 
day reward her. They conversed a few moments in a low tone of 
voice, and he could not fail to notice, as he spoke of her growth 
since they last met, (which had been nearly two years,) the motion 
communicated to the bosom of her white muslin dress, as she 
attempted to withdraw her hand from his, w’^hich still held it in 
durance. Imprinting a kiss upon the jjmoner, he obeyed a sum- 
mons to supper. 

Several young ladies residing in the neighborhood had called 
3 


18 


The American Spy, 


at Deacon Hale’s in the afternoon, among whom was Julia Rose, 
a genteel girl of some eighteen summers, and had kindly offered 
to watch with Miss Hale that night, but Lucy, her bosom friend 
would not consent that any hand but her own should smooth the 
patient’s pillow that night — so JuU of hopes and fears. The 
family retired early, so as not to disturb the invalid, who was 
left with her faithful attendant. 

At dawn of day Nathan relieved the watcher, who had been 
acting the midnight angel at the bedside of his sister, who seemed 
much improved by her night’s rest. Seeing only her brother in 
the room, she turned her lustrous brown eye upon him and with a 
look of anxiety inquired for her female friend. 

“ She has laid down to rest,” replied Nathan, “ shall I call 
her?” 

“ Not for the world,” said the invalid, “ my prayer is that her 
watchful care over me may not task her strength to illness. Oh, 
my dear brother! I can not tell you in words, how kind — how an- 
gelic a creature she has been to me, anticipating my most trifling 
wants.” 

Seing grateful tears again filling those beautiful orbs, her 
brother took her hand and begged of her to be quiet. 

“ I am much better this morning,” said the fair sufferer, “and 
can now control my nerves; fear not my feminine weakness, it 

will not again get the mastery.” 

% 

As Nathan walked across the room to procure some article 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice. 


19 


for his sister, she discovered that he walked lame, and then first 
learned the nature of the accident he met with the previous even- 
ing, the matter having been studiously kept from her knowledge. 
Clasping her hands upon her breast, she feebly articulated a 
prayer of thankfulness to Him who “notes the sparrow’s fall,” for 
the providential termination of an accident which endangered the 
lives of two persons, one of whom was so dear to herself. 

Miss Hale was some eighteen months the senior of her confi- 
dent, Miss Ripley, who was then not quite seventeen. The for- 
mer was the tallest, and, in health, was by some persons denomi- 
nated the prettiest; while others, admired the fullness of contour 
which the latter possessed, accorded to her pre-eminence in figure 
and feature. Elizabeth had glossy black hair and black eyes, 
while to her friend nature had given tresses of richest brown, and 
eyes of mildest blue; they both had very fair skin. 

But, kind reader, I do not conceive it very important minutely 
to describe the personal appearance of those young ladies; let it 
suffice when I assure you, without speaking of their dimpled 
cheeks and cherry lips, that they were both denominated hand- 
some at the period in which they lived — would be so pronounced 
if maidens of the present generation — and probably would be of 
the generations inhabiting this goodly heritage a thousand, or ten 
thousands years hence, unless perchance Galvanism, Mesmerism, 
or some other ism, is to communicate new charms to the daughters 
of mother Eve. 


20 


The American Spy, 


On the day after young Fitch returned home, he rode up on 
horseback to inquire after the health of Miss Hale and meet his 
sister. He was much gratified to find his young friend, the inva- 
lid, convalescing, and remained during the day. On the following 
morning, having left her patient with Miss Rose and the family, 
Lucy, mounted on a pillion behind her brother, as was the New 
England custom of riding at that period, returned home, promis- 
ing, however, to see her bosom companion within a w’eek. 

At the earliest practicable moment, Nathan penned a letter to 
his cousin Samuel, telling him in all sincerity, the joy with which 
he communicated the improving state of Elizabeth’s health, 
reminding him of his promised visit, and urging him by several 
pleasing allurements to remember his own motto. 


CHAPTER II. 


“Palp, silent, and unruffled lake, 

Tell me a tale of other times.” 

Within a fortnight after Nathan Hale returned home from col- 
lege, his cousin Samuel arrived at his uncle’s in Coventry. Dea- 
con Hale’s dwelling, which w^as a large white house of two 
stories, was delightfully situated on Prospect Hill. It fronted 
nearly north, and was approached from the King’s highway through 
a grove of graceful poplars. The prospect from the Hale dwell- 
ing w’as one of the richest in New England; hence the appropri- 
ate name given to the eminence on which it stood. Fertile dales 
circumscribed by distant hills, all covered by the green velvet 
mantle of nature, met the wandering eye of the visitor, while his 
ear was greeted, if not by the shrill voice of the loon from the 
shores of lake Wangombaug, by the murmurs of the more distant 
Willimantic. 

On the same day that Samuel arrived at his uncle’s, young 
Fitch and his amiable sister, each mounted upon a fine horse, 
reined up on Prospect Hill, to increase the joy of its inmates. 
Samuel had never before seen his charming cousin, with whom he 


22 


The American Spy, 


was much pleased; but he was still more charmed with Miss Rip- 
ley, and most of all with Miss Rose, who made one of their after- 
noon party. Julia was rightly named; for the rose, fit emblem of 
purity and love, was happily blended in the color of her cheeks, 
while her gentle, fawn-like nature seemed to impart fragrance to 
every object around. 

Although Elizabeth was yet feeble, she could sit up and enjoy 
her full share of the pleasantry of the afternoon ; and never, per- 
haps, was an afternoon more satisfactorily enjoyed by Deacon 
Hale and his virtuous wife. When parents see their children and 
friends happy, they are seldom otherwise themselves. Perhaps I 
should here state that Deacon Hale became a widower in 1767, 
and afterwards married the widow of Capt. Samuel Adams, and 
I may add, his children were more fortunate in the possession of 
a step-mother than is at all times the case.* 

Young Fitch and his sister had intended to remain only a day 
in Coventry, but as there was no urgent necessity for their return 
sooner, they were persuaded, on Samuel Hale’s account, to extend 
their visit two days longer. A fishing excursion on lake Wan- 
gombaug, distant perhaps two miles, was proposed for the mor- 
row; and, as riding and other moderate exercise had been recom- 
mended her by Elizabeth’s physician, it was understood that she 

*In a public resting place for the dead, in Canterbury, Ct., is a stone bear- 
ing the following inscription: “ Capt. SamuelAdams died, Dec. 29, 1760 : aged, 
31. Also Abigail Hale, his wife, the late wife of Dea. Richard Hale of Cov- 
entry, died, Aug. 21, 1809} aged 89.” 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice* 


23 


was to be one of the water party if the weather was propitious. 

The morning betokened one of those lovely days in June, pe- 
culiar to a New England sky. After some bustle in preparing 
refreshments, etc., the party, consisting of Nathan, his sister and 
cousin Samuel, Fitch and his sister, and Miss Rose, were ready 
for a start. A faithful slave, then an appendage to most of the 
wealthy families in New England, belonging to the Hale family, 
who answered to the cognomen of Job, and often figured as waiter 
in good company, was caterer on the occasion. Job was ready 
betimes with a wagon to carry the ladies, while the young men 
prepared, as the weather was fine, to walk to the landing on 
the east side of the lake, or pond, as all such bodies of water 
(four or five miles in circuit) are denominated in Connecticut, 
w’hich landing was near a burying-ground, dating its antiquity 
with the first settlement of the town. 

The Hale family owned a commodious and fine sailing skiff, 
and Job had been sent the evening before to bail it perfectly dry; 
which he declared on his return he had performed, “ so as not to 
wet de foot ob his darlin missus.” The faithful domestic had not 
only cleansed the boat, but of his own accord had provided and 
arranged a row of evergreens so as completely to shade one 
side of it. 

In the neighborhood of the lake dwelt a young man named 
John Coleman, who, when a boy some ten years old, was one of 
the most promising lads in the town; but a severe fit of sickness. 


24 


The American Spy, 


with his case badly managed by a quack physician, left him a 
little shattered in the garret; about which time he heard some 
person remark, in a conversation respecting the motion of the 
earth, that the world went round. The sentence, which seemed 
so well to accord with his own senses, fastened upon his mind, 
and long after, many times in a day, he might have been heard 
to exclaim: “ I tell you the world goes round -, especially if the 
word round, or any word rhyming with it was uttered in his pre- 
sence. Crazy John, as was often remarked by his neighbors, 
was nobody’s fool.” He was kind-hearted, and often seeking an 
opportunity to run an errand or do a kind act. During the sum- 
mer months he spent much of his time about the lake, either in 
fishing or skipping flat stones upon the water. Whenever he 
uttered his favorite maxim, and any one chose to take exceptions 
to it, which was not unfrequently done by the malicious, his pugna- 
cious organs were excited; but one kind word, or the admission 
of his truism, always brought back his good nature. 

When Job was preparing his boat for the party, crazy John, 
who was a particular friend of his, was curious to know the 
object, and being told, he assisted the former in arranging his 
evergreens. Seeing the preparation completed, he resolved to be 
at the landing next morning when the party should arrive. He 
was quite particular about his personal appearance, and conse- 
quently was never avoided as some idiots are, because an object 
of lothing. 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 


25 


The wagon containing the ladies, and driven by Job, arrived 
at the landing a little in advance of the footmen, where stood 
crazy John drawing imaginary circles with his hand, as if repeat- 
ing his stale maxim. He had received many little tokens of 
regard from Miss Hale, and when the wagon stopped he ran for- 
ward to claim her notice. In fact, he had not let a single day 
pass during her illness, without calling at her father’s to inquire 
about the state of her health. The ladies remained in the wagon 
until the gentlemen came up, and crazy John, who had climbed 
upon a wheel to receive the hand of the invalid extended to him 
in kindness, could not refrain from tears of joy at seeing her so 
far recovered. 

Job knew that his young master would be pleased with his 
forethought in preparing the shade, which he had done by rid- 
dling a narrow plank with auger holes, into each of which he 
had placed green boughs festooned with blooming sweet-briar — 
and standing at his horses’ heads, he watched the approach of 
young Hale. On his arrival, seeing the fine condition of the 
fishing tackle and the boat, he exclaimed, “Job, my faithful old 
boy, what have you been about? Why, the little Rover is 
transformed into a Mayflower,^’ 

“0, massa, I only shade ’em for Missus;” replied the kind 
negro, showing the white of his eye as he looked to see what 
effect his words might have on the invalid. Sensible of his in- 
tended kindness, she remarked; “ Ishall never be without a friend 

I 

4 


26 The American Spy, 

while Job lives; nor will he while I live! Besides,^’ she added, 
turning her speaking eyes upon another who could appreciate a 
kind look and a kind word, “ I have a pretty good friend in you 
John, have I not 

The words of the speaker, were uttered in a feeling manner, to 
which crazy John replied, Guess pretty Miss Libby won’t get a 
better friend nor I while the world goes round — ha, ha, ha, ha,” 
drew a grateful tear into the eye of the slave, who felt himself 
already compensated for his previous pains taking. The truth is , 
he had been fondly attached not only to Elizabeth, but also to 
Nathan from their infancy, and would never hear a word spoken 
disparagingly of either of them, which was sometimes done by 
their friends to tease him, without manifesting warm resent- 
ment. 

The party seated themselves in the boat, which was designed 
to carry six persons besides the oarsman, and Job, having pro- 
perly secured his team, was called in to row it, a task which 
uncommon strength and much experience enabled him to perform 
to the entire satisfaction of its inmates. The party would cheer- 
fully have admitted crazy John, had not all the seats been filled 
without him, seeing which he expressed a willingness to stay on 
shore and look to the horses, which, since their affright, it was 
thought well to keep an eye upon. 

The friends were seated, young Fitch in the bow of the boat, 
Nathan and Samuel on the seat back of Job, Miss Rose and Miss 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 27 

Ripley in front of him, with the invalid bundled up in the stern 
seat. When all were ready, Nathan required the oarsman to 
turn the boat round and row to The Deep Hole, as a certain 
part of the lake was denominated. 

When Nathan uttered the word round, in his instructions to 
Job, a response came from the shore, with — “I tell you the world 
goes round, ha, ha, ha, ha.” 

“ I believe that, John.” 

“ Do you. Mister Nathan? — ha, ha, ha, ha.” 

“ Well, my good fellow, what if the world does go round?” 
asked Miss Rose. 

“ Oh, nothin much Julie, ony as sartain as it goes round that 
way, (throwing his hand in a circle,) aunt Debby’s pot will spill 
all the beans out, pork’n all, if it aint kivered up darned tight, 
ha, ha, ha, ha.” 

Crazy John had composed a song, two simple stanzas, which 
he often sung for his friends, in a tune borrowed from several 
others. Apprized of the fact, young Fitch, as the boat shot off 
from the shore, desired him to favor the party with a song; and 
in a clear, musical voice came the following: 

“ The world goes round, the world goes round, 

Just so, I tell you’t goes (describing a circle with his hand); 

It keeps going round and round, 

Just as I turn my toes” (marking a circle with them on the sandy beach). 

“ The world goes round and back again, [of the lake); 

Just like a water wheel (pointing in the direction of a mill on the outlet 

Or like a pig outside its pen, 

How loud I hear it squeal” (assuming the position of a listener). 


28 The American Spy, 

“This is indeed romance in real life,” said Miss Ripley, as 
crazy John ended his song, “ a vocal serenade upon the water, 
beneath the shade of an evergreen.” 

The Deep Hole had never been satisfactorily fathomed, and 
the students had prepared a line one hundred and twenty-five feet 
long, for the purpose. Job knew where it was, but in his fish- 
ing excursions he usually avoided it, having an aversion as he 
expressed it, “ to rowing in de black water,"*’ Propelling the 
little craft for a few minutes, which seemed to fly before his ath- 
letic arm, he lifted his oars from the water with the exclamation, 
“ Gosh Massa JVat’n, Job wouldn’t fall in dis fountum for all 
Cobentry and de world besides/” 

“ My old boy, how deep do you think this fountain is V’ asked 
Samuel familiarly, as he was aiding his cousin to attach a weight 
to the line for sounding. 

“ Now Massa Hale, Job couldn’t make no^peclemation bout 
de matter, cause you see he’s got no book larnin. But it must 
be mighty deep! Why I spose — ” 

“ Spose what V’ interrogated Samuel, as the honest old slave 
hesitated. 

“ Why, dat him deep as de Bay State water, where de British 
peace makers is!” 

To the inmates of the boat, a crimson tinge might have been 
seen mantling the cheek of Samuel, at the answer of Job, but 
suppressing his political emotions, he continued to assist Nathan 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice. 


29 


as though he heeded not the negro’s voice. Many a pleasing 
joke was enjoyed by the party in this water excursion, not exact- 
ly at Job’s expense, for his lantern jaws were constantly spread 
whenever his passengers were convulsed with laughter, although 
his own simple words may have originated it. This negro was 
rather a privileged person in South Coventry; being allowed, as 
were many New England slaves, that freedom of speech which 
only can develop the African’s true character and incite his 
shrewdness and cunning. As more than once observed by the 
party to encourage his mirth-giving speeches, he had never been 
frightned by an owl. In fact, he was one of the most cautious, 
trusty and witty servants that ever lived in New England. 

The cousins began their sounding in the black water, and in- 
credible as it may seem, their lines could not fathom it. Curiosity 
being satisfied for the present. Job sent the boat where soundings 
were not difficult, and where, to use his own words, “ de parch 
liked angle-dogs, as well as he did bacon and eggs.” 

Many a silvery fish fatally lured by the bait, was hooked on 
that morning by Lucy (to whom the amusement was novel,) and 
Miss Rose, to the great delight of Job, wffiose sole duty it became 
to bait their hooks and take the fish from them. As they caught 
more than all the gentlemen, Job claimed to understand the art 
of angling better than they did, the ladies being under his in- 
struction; and as he loosened one of the finy tribe and adjusted 
the bait, he ever and anon spit upon it, and exclaimed as he cast 
it over the boat’s side, ^^daFs for nuther, right 


30 


The American Spy, 


Although Elizabeth was too feeble to enjoy with her friends 
the pleasure of drawing the fish from the water, a sport of which 
she was fond, still she participated in the general joy of the 
party, seated in the midst of Job’s artificial grove. 

After the amusement had been indulged in for some time, it 
was thought prudent on Miss Hale’s account to return home; be- 
sides, the western horizon indicated a shower. Job rowed the 
boat to the landing, where crazy John was waiting to render his 
assistance, who received from the ladies a fine mess of fish for 
his attentions. As they were still alive and flouncing, the idiot 
was reminded of his favorite maxim, which he more than once 
repeated. 

The aquatic party with as little delay as possible, hurried back 
and was sheltered within the Hale dwelling; the well members 
of it just sipping each other’s health in a glass of good Madeira, 
a fashionable custom at that period, either on the arrival of 
friends, or after a pleasure excursion, when the portending thun- 
der-gust came whistling through the poplars, and soon burst in 
wild fury. 


CHAPTER III. 

“ The strife is done, the vanquish’d had their doom.” — Byron» 

Dinner having been announced by Mrs. Hale, her guests sur- 
rounded the table, and after a blessing had been asked by Deacon 
H., upon the bounty spread before them, they seated themselves 
and satiated an appetite — sharpened as is that of all good fisher- 
men — with an excellent dinner. The events of the morning pass- 
ed in review, when ample justice was done the character of Job 
and crazy John in their absence by the charming invalid, who, 
in an old-fashioned rocker, was bolstered up at the table. Indeed, 
the sayings and doings of the old slave were a source of no little 
merriment on the occasion. 

When the party were in the boat, Nathan and his sister, as did 
Newton and his sister, previously apprised of Samuel’s royalty, 
readily divined the cause of his silence as Job alluded to the 
British troops at Boston; but Miss Rose, ignorant of his politics, 
repeated that part of the conversation, and inclined to rally him 
for dropping the subject without comment. The other girls both 
sought to give her some token for silence, but without eflfect, and 


32 


The American Spy, 


as she continued her pleasantry, the young royalist, evidently 
confused, was compelled to parry her jokes with any thing but 
ease. He felt sensibly the delicacy of his situation. He knew 
how unpopular his real views would be in that circle; in fact his 
father had cautioned him before leaving home, to avoid, if possi- 
ble, any political discussion — especially among the Hales and 
Fitches, whom he expected to meet. 

‘‘In reply to Miss Rose,” said Samuel, “I was afraid Job 
might play the politician if further questioned, and — would 
— might — prove to be — a son of liberty, 

“ Indeed and pray, what would you have him prove?” con- 
tinued his unsuspicious tormentor, little thinking that his hesi- 
tancy in a reply was attributable to a cause, which, if known, 
could not fail to lessen him in her estimation, or that he fairly 
despised the title by which patriots were proud of being distin- 
guished. 

“ Why,^^ continued Samuel, driven to the wall with the blood 
mounting to his temples, “ I would have not only Job, but every 
one else to he a real friend of his country ; one who could not be 
moved by trifles to forget his duty, either to his Maker or his 
King 

The last sentence had hardly closed, when Miss Hale, to arrest 
the conversation at this point, and spare the feelings of her cousin, 
turned to Miss Rose and in a soft voice enquired, whether she or 
Miss Ripley had caught the greatest number of fishes in their late 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 33 

excursion? So unexpected a question caused Miss Rose to look 
at the speaker, when she received a significant look, which, in 
connexion with Samuel’s last sentence, she rightly construed, and 
in turn deeply blushed for having pursued her sallies to so unplea- 
sant an issue. 

The lovely Lucy, with the quickness of female perception, par- 
tially relieved Miss Rose from her dilemma by a happy reply to 
the invalid; confessing herself beaten by her fair competitor, 
which she attributed to former practice in angling and Job’s par- 
tiality in baiting her hook; and then adroitly shifting the subject 
to one more foreign, enquired of Deacon Hale if he had ever heard 
of the battle of the frogs in her own town. 

He replied that he had not only heard all the circumstances 
related when the occurrence transpired, but that he knew all of 
the men actors of the conflict: adding, that even at that late 
period he never passed the pond along the king’s highway, 
without imagining he saw the deadly fight. 

Miss Rose, happy at being relieved from her temporary embar- 
rassment, requested the Deacon to relate the circumstances, as she 
had never heard them in detail, to which he consented. The 
party — having finished their dinner, thanks having been returned 
as they had arisen from the table, retired to another room to hear 
the Deacon’s narrative, which ran much as follows: 

On a very warm sultry night, about the middle of July, 1758, 
when a thick cloud veiled every star, the good people of Wind- 
5 


34 


The American Spy, 


ham were alarmed about midnight by the most terrifying sounds 
they had ever heard, which sounds, a density of the atmosphere 
and the intervention of a hill between the village and source of 
sound, caused to appear overhead. Many threw up their windows 
and attempted to descry objects in the surrounding darkness, but 
they might as well have sought for the elixir-of-life on a huckle- 
berry mountain. The more superstitious w’ere ready to anticipate 
the noctural visit of a host of witches, for such bipeds were still 
known to the aged in them days, not only in our own but in the 
Bay colony. Some thought the judgment-day had arrived; and 
others supposed the town infested with hostile Indians, as w^e were 
then in the midst of that horrid strife called the French and Indian 
war; all, to say the least, w^re greatly terrified. The fears of 
several citizens were not a litle increased, by hearing their own 
names echoed in the surrounding gloom, among whom were Colo- 
nels Dyer and Elderkin, men of legal renown, and Flint and Fitch, 
two other noted citizens — the latter the grandfather of Newton. 
As a gruff voice was heard exclaiming. Col. Dyer! Col. Dyer! 
another more shrill but equally unearthly ejaculated, Elderkin too! 
Elderkin too! — while others in a sharp tone chimed in, Flint! 
Flint ! Fitch ! Fitch ! The military chieftains, their fear yield- 
ing at length to pride, imagining themselves dared to combat, 
sallied forth, got a drummer and beat up for volunteers to repeal 
an invasion, while other citizens, confiding in faith without works, 
fell upon their knees and implored Almighty protection. At the 


35 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice. 

head of a respectable number of volunteers with hunting guns of 
fearful length well loaded, Col. Dyer marched up the hill east of 
the village; and becoming too well satisfied from the increase of 
noise, that the enemy were not only in that direction but on terra 
firma, his courage failed him, and when he would have advanced 
eastward, his knees smote their fellows with dangerous collision. 

At this juncture. Jack, a sprightly young slave owned by Col. 
Dyer, who had been to visit his lady-love and was then returning 
home, passed near the pond. He heard the name of his master 
repeated with astonishment, and halted supposing, in a darkness 
would prove a perfect leveler, some person had mistaken him for 
his master, whose old clothes bechanced to have on; but hearing 
a guttural voice from almost beneath his feet shout Elderkin too ! 
which his dilated organs of hearing readily converted into catch- 
a-nigger-too / he fled toward the village at the top of his speed, 
mumbling over to himself to increase his courage, ‘‘ You no ketch 
de nigger in dese breeches — darn your eyesP'* After running 
nearly three-fourths of a mile he came upon the top of the hill 
when his heavy footsteps being heard by his master who had just 
arrived in that vicinity, a few shots were directed that way and a 
hasty retreat ordered by the Colonel. The flash and report which 
followed, with the whistling of several balls just over his head, 
brought Jack to a dead stand, who began most vehemently to pray 
for the assistance of good old parson White, and beg for quarters. 

The retreating Windhamites did not linger to hear the slave’s 


36 The American Spy, 

unique petition, but made the best of their way down the hill, 
while he, with hair electrified, sought by a circuitous route his 
master’s kitchen. Jack stepped cautiously as he neared the vil- 
lage, and emerging in the light reflected from a back window of 
his home, w^hich was then in the possession of armed men, he was 
recognized and spared the chance of a second volley. When 
questioned by the Colonel as to where he had been, he replied 
trembling from head to foot — “ Massa, Jack must always tell de 
truth; he been to see de Lilly oh de valley , a name by w^hich 
he chose to designate his sweet-heart. 

“ Wha — what makes you tre-tremble so?” asked his master, 
whose own knees were still quite friendly. 

Pressing down the woolly locks upon his pate Jack responded 
with emphasis, “0/i gosh, Massa Dyer! IngensI Ingens! dey 
try for ketch dis nigger too — he run — dey get afore em — shoot — 
he dodge de hall — take de hush — run by Taintor^s grape vine — 
round Larahie^s garden — over Swiff s ’tatoe patch, ana get home 
safef^ 

“ Did you see the Indians?” demanded several voices at once. 
“ hy de light oh dar own powder — hill all cohered wid emf^ 
From this moment a more vigilant watch was kept out for the 
foe. The fearful sounds, however, gradually died away in the dis- 
tance, and before day-light had ceased altogether, the affrighted 
inhabitants supposing their foes dared not attack them in their 
dwellings. Early on the following morning some of the most 


37 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 

courageous ventured, well armed, to proceed in a body over the 
hill, to discover some evidence of a meditated invasion, when lo! 
the road along the mill-pond, now known as Frogpond, was liter- 
ally covered with dead bull-frogs. 

What was it supposed at the time had caused the frogs to 
fight?” asked Miss Rose, seemingly much pleased with the narra- 
tive, and not aware that frogs were such pugnacious animals. 

This frog-fight took place, said Deacon Hale, at an unusually 
dry time. A mill-pond situated some distance above and not dis- 
similar to the one near the road, w^as drawn off to repair the dam, 
and its frogs, unwilling to lose the beverage they so scantily 
enjoyed, floated down with its current to the pond below j the 
waters of both ponds united were however a scant pattern for 
milling privileges. As the frogs were exceedingly numerous, 
and without a formal introduction were thus unceremoniously thrust 
upon each other’s acquaintance, they fell to fighting; and like the 
battle of the Kilkenny cats, this ended only in extermination. 

Well if they were exterminated then,” said Samuel, “ there 
has been a fresh importation to the lower pond long since, for 
they almost deafened me with their croaking when I came by it 
yesterday. Uncle Richard, were there as many frogs killed in 
that most singular of all battles, as the old people tell for?” 

“ Yes,” responded the Deacon, ‘‘ many thousands were suppos- 
ed to have been killed, and bushels of them were lying upon the 
ground afterwards, to be fed upon by hogs and crows, two animals 
which I rather guess will eat almost any thing.” 


38 The American Spy, 

After a little pleasantry which Deacon Hale’s historical facts 
had called forth, the conversation of the party glided off into a 
pleasing channel, corresponding with the reappearance of the 
sun’s golden rays, and any allusion to matters of a political cast 
W’ere studiously avoided. When Samuel parted with his cousin 
at New Haven scarcely two weeks before, he longed for an op- 
portunity to convince him of the charms and claims of royalty, 
but a sensible caution from his father, and possibly the smiles of 
Miss Julia, who, from her own blushes at the dinner table, he 
suspected of rebellion, led him to believe that an expose of his 
sentiments would prove neither very agreeable to the company or 
creditable to himself. 

After the guests at Deacon Hale’s had tasted the luxuries of a 
New England tea-table, and washed down several dainties — 
among which was a dish of strawberries done up with cream and 
sugar, with a decoction of the aromatic root of the sassafras, the 
sipping of which beverage caused Samuel some blushes, inde- 
pendent of those occasioned in attempting to parry the witty sal- 
lies of Mrs. Hale, who kept the whole company merry; Miss 
Julia returned home accompanied by him, yet what tender ex- 
pressions were uttered on the way can be better imagined than 
repeated at this late day. We may very reasonably suppose from 
appearances, however — although aware they sometimes deceive 
us — that the young royalist had now found a hud he might some 
day desire to see blooming a bridal-rose. 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 


39 


Samuel, who had made the journey to his uncle’s on horseback 
with a part of his wardrobe deposited in a good-sized pair of 
saddle-bags, (for Sir Dederick Knickerbocker was not the only 
personage of olden time who traveled with such a convenience,) 
after spending a week very pleasantly returned home, tarrying 
with young Fitch and the beautiful Miss Ripley over night. 
Having examined with some care several files of newspapers at 
his uncle’s, filled with rebellious sentiments, such as he had not 
before taken pains to read, and from his observation on the road, 
he carried home a belief that opposition to British ministerial 
oppression was becoming a settled principle throughout his native 
colony. 


CHAPTER IV. 


“The proud are always most provok’d by pride.” — Cowper, 

At the commencement of Yale College early in 1773, young 
Fitch and the Hale cousins graduated, all with deserved honors — 
Nathan, though scarcely eighteen years of age, bearing off the 
literary palm of the institution. It w^as evident that Samuel re- 
membered with pleasure his visit in Coventry, as he needed little 
urging to accompany his cousin home from New Haven. Fish- 
ing parties, in which Job, and sometimes crazy John figured, 
hunting and riding excursions, etc., were enjoyed by him with 
peculiar zest at his second visit, which was protracted to several 
weeks, a part of which time he spent in Windham with the Fitch 
family. 

One rainy day while Samuel was at his uncle’s engaged in a 
studied game of checkers with his charming cousin, who, instead 
of the invalid he had left her some months before, was now as 
healthy and as pretty a maiden as man could wish to see — ever 
sprightly without folly, and witty without sarcasm — a loud rap 
was heard at the door. On its being opened, a voice with a for- 
eign brogue enquired — ‘‘ Misthur Natan Ale lives here?” 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 


41 


He does/’ said Nathan, who with a newspaper was poring 
over a debate on American grievances in the English House of 
Commons, and recognizing in the voice of the speaker his Ger- 
man friend Staudt, he sprang to the door, extended his hand and 
bade him welcome. John Casper Staudt was a man some forty 
years of age, of athletic form and good nature, natural gifts of a 
German ancestry; and seemed well fitted to endure thebuffetings 
of life. Arriving in a north-easter, wet and chilly, at the house 
of his young friend, he was conducted into the kitchen to warm, 
where dinner was cooking over a fire which sent its oak and 
chestnut sparks in every direction from beneath the mantel-tree of 
an immense fire-place. The kitchen of nearly every New Eng- 
land farm-house, at this period, contained a piece of furniture 
called a screen — a bench with sides at the ends to rest the arms 
upon, and a back rising from the floor above the head of the per- 
son seated upon it. The kitchen screen usually was seen, partic- 
ularly in winter, with one end against the wall near a corner of 
the fire-place, the other extending into the room so as to protect 
the fire if possible from the air of an outside door. Screens — 
upon which no little courting has been done ‘ lang-syne ’ — were 
sometimes furnished with a cushion of feathers, of which luxuri- 
ous kind was the one under consideration. Divesting his person 
of a heavy pack, containing his wardrobe and numerous chemical 
implements, the money digger was given a seat upon the screen, 
and soon after served with a glass of cider-brandy and molasses 
‘ to warm his stomach.’ 


6 


42 


The American Spy, 


The new guest on Prospect Hill remained there a fortnight, 
and often amused the Hale family and other visitors with anec- 
dotes of his own life in Germany and America, not forgetting to 
tell how near he had been more than once to some of Captain 
Kidd’s money, when a charm was unfortunately broken by the 
utterance of a single word, or the carol of a bird, and some sprite 
bore away the iron chest and its contents to — the Lord knows 
where. While in Coventry, in company with the Hale cousins 
and their friend Fitch, (who, with Miss Ripley, chanced to visit 
them during his stay,) with Job for a waiter and crazy John a 
hanger-on, he visited The Pool, as there denominated. It is a 
spring in the easterly part of the town, issuing from beneath the 
south bank of the Willimantic, where that river separates the 
towns of Coventry and Mansfield. After a partial examination, 
the chemist pronounced the mineral properties of the pool to be 
iron. Taking a hasty survey of the ground around the spring, 
the soil being sandy and covered with white birch and alder of 
stunted growth, he said, “ It wouldn’t bay de cosht to work him — 
dere bees no mooch iron round here.” 

“ I tell you the world goes round, ha, ha, ha, ha,” respond- 
ed a familiar voice to the last words of the German; and the 
party returned home, much pleased with their pedestrian excur- 
sion. 

No member of the Hale family was more highly delighted with 
the honest German than Job; and it was really amusing to hear 


43 


Or Freedom's Farly Sacrifice. 

him attempt to instruct the former in his English pronunciation — 
evidently proud to meet a white man who spoke his own language 
worse than he did. The chemist endeavored to compensate the 
slave by instructions in gardening, by telling him how to manu- 
facture and drink wine; how to proceed to obtain Kidd’s money, 
if so lucky as to see a chest containing it, causing the negro’s 
organs of vision greatly to dilate; — and also how to proceed, 
should he ever travel in Germany, a circumstance quite as likely 
to take place as his aerial flight to the moon. Crazy John also 
became much attached to Job’s particular friend, who seemed to 
appreciate his feelings better than most others did; and on visit- 
ing the Hale mansion one morning and learning that he had gone, 
not expecting to return, a tear was seen to moisten his eye. 

Miss Hale and her friend Lucy, during the stay of the latter, 
were often delighted by Staudt’s pleasing yarns; while he in re- 
turn was half enamored with the sweet temper of the former, and 
the witty, candid conversation of the latter. After receiving 
more than one substantial evidence of generous regard from dif- 
ferent members of the Hale family, and a keepsake from Lucy — 
a silken money purse of her own make — all of which he careful- 
ly stowed away in his mammoth pack, he left Coventry, mani- 
festing for the kindness of his new acquaintances every demon- 
stration of heartfelt gratitude — promising, if ever an opportunity 
was afforded him, to repay in some manner his kind entertainment. 
When he had mounted his pack, he took no little pains before 


44 


The American Spy, 


starting, to shake hands with every member of the family^ not 
forgetting Job, but to the young royalist who was still there, he, 
for some cause unknown at the time, did not extend his hand. It 
was noticed by several of the family, but as the slighted one did 
not speak of it, his friends did not think proper to. By some re- 
mark made by him after the German left, it was supposed he had 
in some manner intentionally hurt his feelings. 

While Samuel was on this his last visit to Connecticut, several 
social parties were made in Coventry and in Windham on his ac- 
count, and he added numerous agreeable acquaintances to his 
former list; but of all his Windham county friends, Julia Rose 
was the favorite. He was more cautious if any thing than on 
his first visit about avowing his political sentiments; yet there 
were occasions when allusion was made to some patriotic move- 
ment it seemed impossible to avoid, which unconsciously drew 
from him evidence of his kingly predilection. On the day before 
he left, he made a confident of his charming cousin, and revealed 
to her the fact that he had ventured certain tender proposals to 
Miss Julia, which were rejected, as he thought, with evident 
pride. He said she had refused his hand because of the difference 
in his and her own political sentiments, adding, that “ he thought 
it ridiculous young ladies should even think of politics, much less 
be influenced by them.” 

That not only Miss Rose, but thousands of other women in the 
colonies, did investigate, and carefully, the political causes then 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 45 

agitating them, is a matter of notoriety worthy especial notice, 
as they exerted a powerful influence on the destiny of the repub- 
lic. Whether the general reader will justify Miss Rose in reject- 
ing a lover because he opposed measures she firmly believed he 
should advocate, we know not; but approve her course, however, 
since ‘ a house/especially in revolutionary times, ‘ divided against 
itself can not stand,’ neither can that family at war in sentiment 
ever live happily. The political bias of the mothers and daugh- 
ters of the Revolution, who espoused the cause of their suffering 
country, whose memory every true American should cherish, was 
a great, an indispensable wheel in rolling on the car of American 
Liberty. 

Samuel had been treated at Deacon Hale’s, with the generous 
hospitality extended in former days to guests in New England; 
not that we would intimate they were now treated inhospitably; 
but at the period of which we are writing, there was known far 
less formality than at present, which often savors of insincere 
professions of friendship — professions which extend courtesy and 
heartless sincerity, because it is fashionable to appear civil; al- 
though in the kitchen, the family visited may wish their parlor 
friends in Heaven, or almost any other place, so that they are rid 
of them. When the young royalist mounted his horse to proceed 
homeward, he did so, notwithstanding his attempt to conceal it, 
evidently displeased with all around him; even Job could not fail 
to notice his incivility, while attempting to place his feet pro- 


46 


The American Spy, 


perly in his stirrups. His leaving Coventry in such evident ill 
humor, was a source of no little uneasiness to Deacon Hale and 
his wife, until his love atfair was made known after he left, by 
Elizabeth, who felt it a duty, as no injunction of secresy was im- 
posed, to relieve her parents’ anxiety. He passed by his Wind- 
ham friends without calling on them, and rode home, to use a 
vulgar phrase, ‘ with a flea in his ear,’ or somewhere else; out of 
humor with every thing and every body republican^ and safely 
arrived there, he was more strongly inclined than ever to promote 
royalty. Again at home, he entered his father’s office as a law 
student, where for the present we will leave him. 

Soon after Newton Fitch had received parchment evidence of 
scholarship, he began to read in a law office in Hartford; about 
which time Nathan Hale, to gratify the wishes of his friends, 
■would have commenced fitting for the ministry, had not the diffi- 
culties with England increased with every eastern gale, and his 
country demanded his first service. Several things had occurred 
recently to prove the Americans determined in their opposition 
to tyranny, but none more so than the destruction of the British 
revenue cutter, Gaspee, in Providence river, which occurred just 
after Samuel’s first visit in Coventry. This transaction also 
showed that they were actuated by principle, for when gold can 
not bribe, virtue retains an enviable seat. The act was one of 
such daring, that the British offered a large reward to discover 
the perpetrators: more than this; they promised full pardon to 


47 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 

the informant if guilty himself, yet of the very many engaged, 
there was no Judas. 

During the year in which the Hale cousins graduated, colonial 
assemblies began to take a bold stand against oppression, and in 
most instances were arrayed against their own governors. Those 
legislative bodies appointed committees to correspond with each 
other, and to further their designs, committees were organized 
in almost every town. Of the Coventry committee, young Hale 
was an efficient member. The principal object of the town asso- 
ciations, was the early spreading of important information. It 
will be remembered that printing presses were then few, and the 
means of communicating news by telegraph unknown in the land; 
while the advantages of steam power existed only in the minds 
of the scientific. Patriots not only did without India tea in ac- 
cordance with their voluntary agreements, but in December of 
this year the Bostonians, to prevent a ship’s cargo from being 
landed, dedicated it, with little ceremony, to old Neptune, to be 
served up to the sea-serpent, then in his teens, and numerous 
small fry assembled by general invitation. This lawless act of 
the Bostonians added fresh oil to the discordant flame, and Parlia- 
ment soon after levied a tax on the town of Boston and removed 
its Custom House to Salem. The climax of oppression, how’ever 
w’as the provision made for the trial in England of American 
criminals. 


CHAPTER V. 

’Tis hard ; but when we need must bear, 

Enduring patience makes the burden light.” — Spectate, 

A military life has peculiar charms for individuals of an ardent 
daring temperament^ such was that of Nathan Hale, our heroj 
and when an organization of the militia of the land was propo- 
sed, he entered fully into the spirit of the requisition, with the 
young men of his own town. The time had now arrived, when 
the position of the colonies with the mother country could solely 
he maintained by the bloody, heart-sickening clangor of arms; 
for the American motto ^^United we stand , had gone forth to the 
world, and the distinguishing characteristics of Whig and Tory — 
the one then denoting submission to nothing clearly wrong, the 
other a willingness to put up with any thing to retain place — had 
already been heralded from Maine to Georgia. 

The reader has discovered that Lucy Ripley, so far as we have 
shown her true character, was an object worthy of any man’s 
love; so thought our hero from the moment he beheld her at the 
bedside of his sister when ill, and the intimacy of childhood ere 
long had ripened into reciprocal love. When minds ennobled 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 49 

by every virtuous principle, are silently drawn together by their 
magnetic affinity, Cupid twines his silken cords around them, and 
they become influenced by corresponding feelings — each as if by 
nature prompted, admiring the acts and drinking in the spirit 
which influences the other. True, we are to a great extent crea- 
tures of habit; and although Lucy, from the part her father, Fitch 
and many of her relatives were acting, would doubtless have admir- 
ed the spirit of manly resistance her countrymen were making to 
tyranny, still it is hardly probable rebellion would have occupied 
so much of her thought had not her lover been an active partisan. 

The gambrel-roofed two story dwelling of Erastus Fitch, 
painted red, and standing so pleasantly on a knoll in Windham, 
embowered in the summer amidst fruit trees and a thrifty wood- 
bine which crept along its front wmll, had received ‘‘ its airing” 
for the spring and again“ been put to rights ” just previous to the 
first day of April, 1775. On the morning of that day, a day of 
rare serenity, Lucy resolved to invite in a few female friends for 
an afternoon visit, and in accordance the parlor and keeping 
room floors were scoured clean, and each received a liberal coat 
of pure white sand, that in the former room presenting a prettily 
grained appearance, by its having had a hair wist made for the 
purpose, lightly drawn over it in transverse directions, to exhibit 
different figures. My young reader is hardly aware that carpet- 
ing is a luxury of more modern introduction, and that probably 
few, if any, wealthy farmers in New England had a yard of it at 
a period so early as that under consideration. 

7 


50 


The American Spy, 


On the day above mentioned, soon after dinner, to which he 
sat down, as most New England people did, precisely at twelve 
o’clock, a single horseman might have been seen well mounted, 
and wending his way from Coventry to Windham, evidently in 
very deep study, either about his own or his country’s welfare, or 
both as is likely; a revery not unfrequently broken by the cack- 
ling of wild geese, then taking their eerial flight northward in 
great numbers for incubation. As the horseman turned into an 
avenue which led from the king’s highway to the house of Eras- 
tus Fitch, several rods distant, his ear w^as greeted with vocal 
music, which drowned the noise made by his horse’s hoofs, and 
he approached sufficiently near unobserved, to hear several female 
voices warble melodiously the following homely, though patriotic 
lines in the then favorite air, Yankee Doodle. 

Hark! hear ye not that distant drum, 

That trumpet’s signal blast, sir! 

Great Britain’s troops to awe have come, 

Americans at last, sir! 

They think us Yankee boys so few, 

We will not dare resist, sir! 

But with clear heads and hearts all true, 

We’ll show John Bull our fist, sir! 

No silk we’ll wear — drink no bohea. 

Till George revokes his laws, sir ! 

And if he don’t, we will be free^ 

And show our eagle-claws, sir! 

No more to kings we’ll bow the knee. 

But bid them all beware, sir! 

We Yankee boys may plant a tree 
That liberty will bear, sir ! 


51 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 

“Bravo! American girls against the world!’’ shouted the 
horseman, as the music ceased. He was delighted to hear a bevy 
of girls chanting alone a national air, and his unexpected plau- 
dit brought several of them covered with blushes, to an open 
wdndow. 

“ Nathan,” said a familiar voice from an open door to which 
his own had invited the speaker, “ your arrival is most opportune; 
whether by your eaves-dropping you have been made an April 
fool, or the serenaders, by unconsciously giving a Yankee Doodle 
concert, I am unable to say. But you are not to be a trooper in 
any event, so you will just dismount and entertain the songsters, 
with whom one might suppose you much pleased.” 

“ I am sure all the poets in the country would open their escri- 
toirs and puzzle their wits at midnight to write songs, could they 
but hear them sung by the Windham girls,” said our hero, as he 
surrendered his horse to Zeb, a young slave, belonging to the 
Fitch family, and followed Miss Ripley into the hall. The good- 
natured black took the bridle-reins and bounded into the saddle 
with a chuckle, giving his young mistress at the time a significant 
wink and nod, as much as to say, “ do you know that fellowl” 
w^hich increased the cherry hue of her cheeks. Having doffed 
his hat and spurs, Lucy conducted her lover into the presence of 
some half a dozen girls, who, adopting his remark, might have 
been pitted against the same number of young ladies from any 
land. To speak of them in general terms, they were handsome 


52 


The American Spy, 


without being vain of their beauty, and sociable without an ex- 
hibition of affectaticn, or an ostentatious aping of unpossessed 
wit. 

We have not time to introduce the reader personally to each of 
the company into which our hero had so unexpectedly been ush- 
ered, with several of whom he had a partial acquaintance, or 
exhibit the playful conversation of the afternoon. Hours glided 
pleasantly away, and after tea, (a decoction of sage,) several 
young gentlemen residing in the neighborhood, came by invitation 
to spend the evening, and aid young Hale in entertaining the fair 
circle. Much of the evening’s conversation was about patriots 
and royalists; and the health of several of the former was toasted 
in a glass of wine. That of Hale was as follows: ^‘The health 
of Dr, Joseph Warren — the statesman and hero who so nobly 
dared to beard the British lion in his den/ May all true AmerU 
cans appreciate his worth,^^* 

* On tbe evening of March 5, 1770, several citizens of Boston were fired 
upon and killed by a company of British soldiers, then quartered in that town 
The anniversary of the event was celebrated every year until the ensuing war 
was closed; and Dr. Warren delivered two of the orations— one in 1772, and 
the other in 1775. 

Just previous to the delivery of Warren’s last oration, the British officers 
then stationed in Boston, had made the threat openly, that whoever spoke on 
that occasion would do it at the price of his life. The soul of this patriot 
took fire at the threat, and he solicited the honor of braving it. 

When the day came, the old South meeting-house (temples of worship de- 
nominated churches in New York, are called meeting-houses in New England,) 
was filled at an early hour, the British officers occupying the aisles and the 
steps to the pulpit, several even presuming to enter that consecrated place, in 


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63 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 

The party, which broke up at an early hour in the evening’, 
was conducted much as are modern similar assemblings; to the 
disinterested observer, however, there was one very apparent dif- 
ference. The guests of Miss Ripley seemed all on an equality, 
whereas in modern times it is becoming exceedingly difficult to 
bring a dozen young people together, but what some will evidence 
that they consider themselves far from being flattered, if, in fact, 
they do not take it in high dudgeon that some of their school- 
mates who were less vain than themselves are invited guests, al- 
though possibly they may be richer in both prospective wealth 
and good sense. It is anti-republican, entirely so, for individuals 
to manifest hauteur towards their worthy fellows, and not less 
impolitic to assume aristocratic airs in company. 

Nathan and Lucy had been plighted for several months, and in 
the morning when he was just ready to return home, they might 

the hope the better to over-awe the speaker. Finding the usual entrance ob- 
structed, supposed purposely, the orator assisted by several friends, effected one 
at the pulpit window by a ladder. 

As the speaker took his place at the desk, an awful silence pervaded the 
assembly. He commenced in a firm tone of voice, and as he proceeded with 
energy and boldness to depict the evils attendant on stationing armed men in 
populous towns, the patriotic spectators often turned their eyes from him to 
the burnished weapons of his foes; but a stillness like that found in the 
house of death, was broken only by the pathos of the orator, who finished 
his oration unmolested. The British soldiers were not the only persons 
armed among the spectators, and it is highly probable the manifest preparations 
made by the “Sons of Liberty” to punish the dastardly act, alone prevented 
the threatened assassination. The scene throughout must have been exciting 
and sublime. 


54 


The American Spy, 


have been seen in private conversation. He WM*shed her to name 
a day when ceremony should make them one, as affection for some 
time had done. 

Apprized that his birth-day would be on the sixth day of the 
approaching June, and flattering herself with the vain belief, be- 
cause she hoped as much, that the national difficulties would, at 
all events, be likely to be settled ere that time, she replied, half 
leaning against his person, with her hands tenderly locked in his, 
and her lustrous eyes amorously upturned to his own: 

“ Let it be on the anniversary of your next birth-day!’’ 

“ Be it on that day then, although it will seem an age,” said 
the patriot lover, ‘‘and may that God in whom we both trust, 
approve the time and act.” So saying, his arm encircled her 
waist; he drew the gentle creature to his own person, and again 
and again, and possibly yet again, imprinting the lover’s seal for 
similar contracts on her nectarine lips, peach-blushing cheeks and 
ruddy neck; then suddenly, as if a sense of duty chided, a shade 
of melancholy passed o’er his brow, and relaxing his hold on her 
beautious form, he started, as from an unpleasant dream. 

“ What is the matter, dearest — what so alarms you?” anxiously 
inquired his companion, “does the prospect of our certain union 
awaken such speedy repentance?” 

“ No, my own dear Lucy,” said he in reply to her closing 
words, as he gazed anxiously upon her countenance, from which 
the blood had stolen insensibly away. “ No, fair one, such were 

% 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 


55 


not the thoughts now occupying my mind. Alas! were it not for 
the chances of war, we might with more certainty anticipate the 
consummation of our earthly hopes. The next post may bring 
us intelligence of the shedding of more blood than flowed from 
American veins on that occasion, which the noble Warren so 
recently and so eloquently depicted, with an hundred bullets 
awaiting but a signal to pierce his unawed heart. The long 
pent up storm must soon find a crater from which it will burst 
in all its fury; and the liberty of privilege we seek to enjoy, 
will only be obtained, as I fear, through rivers of blood — yes, 
seas of gore! I would not anticipate horrid scenes of carnage, 
yet come they must, and your Nathan is as likely to prove a 
victim as others.” 

At this hasty speech the blood chilled in Lucy’s veins; she 
had only anticipated war at a distance, or as a means of dis- 
tinction for the ambitious, and possibly had fancied a laurel 
chaplet upon the brow of her lover; she had, in fact, looked 
only on the bright side of the picture, and imagined glory and 
fame without wounds and death. In turn, her sweet counte- 
nance was overcast with the clouds of fear and doubt, and 
with a look in which hope was but faintly reflected, she in- 
quired: 

“And will you go into the heat of battle; will you encounter 
the hazard of certain death?” 

“ I’ll go where duty bids me — and trust there to be followed 
by your prayers!” he responded. 


56 


The American Spy, 


“ Dear Nathan, I still hope a general war is not to follow 
this accumulated oppression of the Bostonians; and that our 
good king’s advisers may yet be influenced by reason, and the 
dictates of humanity.” 

“ Hopes indulged for years, dear girl, but what have they 
availed? We have petitioned ^iiW petitions have become a nui- 
sance, and are not even read. We have remonstrated, till re- 
monstrance has become a by-word. We even sent our great 
philosopher and lightning tamer with the olive-branch, ‘ say- 
ing they will reverence him,’ but he was buffeted and spurned 
from Parliament. The storm is fast gathering, and we must 
fight — and I am resolved to stand or fall with my injured coun- 
trymen; so good-by, dear Lucy, and with this seal of our love, 
I tear myself from you.” 

Scarcely had their lips parted from a long and blissful kiss, 
when he sprang from her side — bounded into his saddle, and 
was soon out of sight. 


CHAPTER VI. 


“ The storm cloud gathers fast, the hour’s at hand, 

When it will burst in fury o’er the land.” 

Eighteen days from the interview of our hero with his lady- 
love, noticed in the preceding chapter, Gen. Gage, then in com- 
mand of the British troops stationed at Boston, sent a detachment 
of his men to destroy a quantity of military stores accumulated at 
Concord; the Lexington battle followed, the details of which are 
familiar, or ought to be, to every American. The news of this 
conflict spread through the colonies like fire upon a prairie before 
a gale of wind. It was heralded by swift-footed messengers, and 
was soon known in every hamlet from Maine to Georgia. The 
militia of Coventry, imitating the example throughout New Eng- 
land, were soon on their march to the theatre of war. 

Passing through Windham, Nathan obtained a brief interview 
with Lucy, the troops having halted in the neighborhood of the 
Fitch dwelling to rest. The moments flew rapidly, and when the 
gifted hero drew his watch and observed that the time of rest had 
nearly expired, a shade of regret clouded his brow, but it was only 
for a moment; and as the rolling drum warned that the interview 
8 


58 


The American Spy, 


must close, although the eye of Lucy moistened with a tear, the 
lovers parted full of hopes and bright visions of bliss. Our heroine 
had been too zealous in the cause of liberty to attempt, as some 
would have done, to detain her lover, yet he could not fail to infer 
more than once, that she would rather the crisis had not arrived. 
As the stirring sounds of the fife and drum died away in the dis- 
tance, doubts came to torment her, but against them and the 
pulsations of her young heart, which almost threatened its rup- 
ture, she struggled — she conquered, though not until several 
hours after her lover had been marching on the road towards Bos- 
ton. His thoughts on this journey may perhaps be better ima- 
gined than described. 

Arriving in the vicinity of Cambridge, all was bustle and 
activity; thousands of New England’s hardy sons had already 
congregated, some in the garments they had on at the plow or 
anvil, which they had not deemed it prudent to take time to lay 
off; and all actuated by one feeling — drawn together by one sym- 
pathetic chord. 

Gen. Gage, seeing the hills around Boston occupied by the 
armed yeomanry of New England, for some time confined his 
operations to the city; the besieging Americans however, were 
organizing and disciplining for subsequent duties. Many of the 
militia who first rallied near Boston, when they discovered they 
were not needed, returned home; while others enlisted to see the 
end of the Lexington tragedy. Of the latter number was young 
Hale, who was given a captain’s commission, in Col. Webb’s 
regiment. 


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Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice. 


59 


Early in June several thousand fresh troops arrived in Boston 
when Gen. Howe, commissioned so to do by the British govern- 
ment, offered pardons to all Americans for past offences, except 
to Samuel Adams and John Hancock. The manner of their ex- 
ceptions shows them entitled to the very front rank of American 
patriots. Neither the prospect of peace, wdth all its blessings, if 
to be purchased at the possible sacrifice of national privileges, 
or the prospect of war, with all its horrid details, could change 
the settled purpose of the Bostonians. 

It having been rumored abroad that the British troops intended 
visiting the country, active measures were on foot in the camp 
to prevent it. After a good night’s repose, Gen. Gage, then in 
command of the troops at Boston, was startled by a loud rapping 
at his door. 

“ Who’s there?” he inquired, raising his head from his downy 
pillow, just as the rap was violently repeated. Immediately he 
heard the disturber of his morning dreams hold of the latch, vainly 
attempting to enter his apartment. “ Who’s there?” again in- 
terrogated the occupant of the bed-chamber. 

‘‘My name is Henry Clinton, sir,” said the intruder, “and I 
would speak with Gen. Gage this moment.” 

Springing from his bed he unlocked the door, and seeing his 
brother officer there at so unusual an hour, he exclaimed, “ Gen. 
Clinton, what has happened — what the d — 1 brings you to my 
door by daylight? Have the Yankees carried us all by storm, at 


60 The American Spy, 

the point of mop-sticks and pitch-forks? or has some most impor- 
tant news just arrived from England? Speak; do tell what has 
happened.’’ 

‘‘I am only waiting an opportunity to do so, your honor!” 
said Clinton, dryly, tipping his chapeau very gracefully. “The 
Yankees have not altogether carried us by storm, but they might 
very easily if we all slept as soundly as yourself. Why sir. Col. 
Allen had not half the difficulty to arouse the commandant of Old 
Ti,* that I have had to wake you. But I am on business. To be 
brief, sir, the rag-tags of the would-be generals, Mr. Ward and 
others,! are strongly intrenching themselves on Breed’s Hill, and 
it is rumored in town that they intend to keep possession of it, 
and ” 

“ The d — 1 they do!” interrupted the dressing hero, who tore 
one of his silk stockings half off, and ruptured his beautiful buff 
breeches in two places in his hot haste to get them on. 

Bang! bang! bang! went several loud guns at this moment. 

“ What does this firing mean?” said Gen. Gage, nearly letting 
his gold watch fall in a vain endeavor to thrust it into its fob. 

“A few morning guns for variety, your honor. You know our 

^Allusion is here made to the capture of Fort Ticonderoga, by Col. Ethan 
Allen, in May, 1775. 

t At this period of the contest, the British officers were unwilling to extend 
the title of General to Americans, and when Gen. Gage first communicated 
with Gen. Washington, by letter, it was superscribed to “ Mr. Washington” — 
of course it was returned unopened, because it was not addressed to him in 
his official capacity, although a business letter. 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice. 


61 


men are complaining of ennui; before coming hei^e I left orders 
for some of our best artillerists to punish the cowardly rebels for 
their temerity. They are very valiant in the night, when our 
troops are asleep, but I dare say a few more shots will send them 
scampering from the hill, like a flock of frightened sheep.” Bang ! 
bang! bang! 

“ What! the firing seems to be in another direction from the 
first,” said the dressing hero, now about to leave his room, “what 
can this mean?” 

“Only that the ships in the harbor are joining in the salute,” 
responded Clinton, as the two descended into the street. They 
proceeded immediately to the tower of a meeting-house, which 
afforded them a fine view of the American redoubt, a work which 
had sprung up as if by magic, while the two spectators had either 
been playing cards over a glass of wine, or were sleeping off the 
heavy charges their war-god, Bacchus, had literally loaded them 
with. Raising a glass to his eyes and surveying the American 
works on the hill, surprise was visible in his countenance, but 
without seeming to lose his usual gravity, on which he prided 
himself, Clinton handed the magnifier to his companion, barely 
remarking as he did so, 

“ The Yankees can shovel gravel, if they can’t do any thing 
else !” 

After a brief survey. Gage lowered the glass with an oath, 
expressing his astonishment that the rag-tags, as his friend had 


62 


The American Spy, 


dubbed them, could have accomplished so much in so little time, 
and that they should continue their unfinished works with such 
apparent unconcern; as the shot of the enemy were plowing up 
the soil all around them. 

This will never, never do; them rascals must all be caught 
and gibbeted, or locked up in dungeons,’’ said Gage, ‘‘and we 
must set ourselves to work to do it. What, let a report go into 
the country, that a handful of raw militia defied British regulars 
with impunity?” At this moment Generals Burgoyne, Howe 
and Pigott, who had been notified to meet Gage and Clinton there, 
came panting into the bellfry. “ This looks as though we ■were 
to have a warm day of it,” said Gage to Howe, as the latter sank 
down upon the deck much exhausted. 

After panting a few moments, grumbling at the great number 
of steps he had to climb in his ascent, and wiping the per- 
spiration from his brow, he replied to Gage as follows; “ Depend 
on’t there’ll be no fighting. Send a regiment of red coats thar 
way, with bright bayonets, and those Jonathan fox-hunters will 
show their heels in double quick time.” With emphasis he ad- 
ded, “77/ lay a wager of ten bottles of as good Madeira as the 
Pope of Rome ever tasted, that Pigott and myself with a few 
troops, will rid the hill of them jackanapes in two hoursP^ 

“ I am not disposed to overrate the courage of the rascals,” 
said Gage, “ but some how or other they do not seem to mind the 
shot of our cannon in the least, for which reason I will take your 





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Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 


63 


bet. Yourself and Pigott shall have the honor of selecting your 
troops for the occasion, and when ready to march, Clinton, Bur- 
goyne and I will take our station here, (if we can press some 
chairs into the service,) to witness the flight of the “rag-tags.” 
What say, Clinton, will you share the bet with me.” 

“ I perfer betting to win, sir,” said Clinton, “ but I will pro- 
mise to help drink the wine, standing upon that petticoat-looking 
banner* they have planted on their works, long before noon; 
will not you, friend Burgoyne.” 

“ Indeed I will in full bumpers, from the head of one of their 
butter-firkin drums,” added Burgoyne. After a few preliminaries 
were settled, the party left the tower to prepare to punish the 
daring provincials. Thus commenced the great tragedy, since 
known as the battle of Bunker Hill. 

Considerable delay was experienced in getting the British 
troops ready to march; in the meantime the Americans were pro- 
secuting their labor with incessant diligence. It was nearly 
noon when the men under How’e and Pigott landed from boats in 
Charleston, and marched up the hill to attack the provincials. 
The trio in the steeple had waited long and anxiously to see the 
“ rebels scamper off,^’ but when instead, they saw scores of their 
own select infantry cut down before the American redoubt, like 
grass before a mower, and the remainder fleeting towards their 

* In the years 1775 and 1776, the American flag was one of plain red, that of 
stars and stripes was adopted June 14, 1777. 


64 


The American Spy, 


boats, they bit their lips, which only parted to eject an occasional 
oath, in anger; and when, on being rallied and brought by their 
officers to a second charge, more fatal, even, than the first from the 
Americans’ fire, and before which they again retreated down the 
hill, their rage knew no bounds. Gage and Burgoyne flew into 
a passion — stamped upon the bell-deck, and each in turn swore 
that the lines of the breast-work were manned by Englishmen, as 
no other troops could stand such charges; while Clinton in a per- 
fect rage, left his mortified companions, taking an oath that as 
the honor of the royal flag was jeopardized, he would carry the 
works or perish in the attempt. 

Early in the morning of this day, fraught with such important 
consequences to lovers of liberty. Captain Hale, having left his 
company in command of his lieutenant, armed with a fowling 
gun,* crossed the isthmus to the fortification on Breed’s Hill, ac- 
companied by Gen. Warren, who was also proceeding thither to 
volunteer his aid to the brave Prescott. As they passed the neck 
of land exposed to the cross-fire of the British, a grape shot 
striking the barrel of Hale’s gun, forced it from his hand upon the 
ground. Snatching it up uninjured, he took deliberate aim and 
fired at an officer on the nearest floating battery, with what effect 
is unknown. Declining any command, Warren and Hale sought 
the most exposed part of the American redoubt, where by coun- 
sel and example, they proved efficient auxiliaries. 

* In the early part of the Revolution, nearly all the American captains not 
only wore swords, but carried guns. 


65 


Or Freedom* s Early Sacrifice. 

The Americans under Prescott were not only without bayonets, 
but were greatly deficient in powder and ball, not having on an 
average at the commencement of the action, over three or four 
charges to each man. It was, however, most judiciously expend- 
ed during the first two attacks of the enemy, scarcely a charge 
having been fired that did not take effect in some manner upon 
the foe. More than one Briton bit the ground before the steady 
aim of young Hale; who, with the old gun he had often shot 
ducks with in the lake near his father’s, he was now repelling 
the invaders of his country. 

Arriving with fresh troops at the landing, Gen. Clinton once 
more rallied the dispirited soldiers under Howe and Pigott. 
When about to lead them to a third assault, he addressed them 
much as follows: “ What! are a handful of green Yankees invin- 
cible? Are soldiers in the service of King George, well equip- 
ped, and their officers who have won laurels in foreign lands, 
fighting with veteran troops man to man, to be disgraced forever 
by a vain attempt to storm the mushroom works of a pack of 
cowards and mint-tea-drinkers, armed, too, as they are? Me- 
thinks I hear the village church bells ringing a merry peal 
throughout America, at the defeat of disciplined troops by a few 
ragamuflSns! What think you Parliament will say, when told 
that a thousand or even two thousand New England farmers 
without bayonets, successfully resisted three or four thousand of 
England’s best infantry? Tell it not in Gath, neither publish it 


9 


66 


The American Spy, 


in the streets of London! I appeal to you as men, as English- 
men, to redeem your national character for bravery! Let not the 
sun go down with shame upon your heads, for disgraced you can 
not fail to be in the eyes of all Europe, and your officers, too, if 
yonder works are not stormedj nor shall I crave the honor of 
commanding men after this day, who have not sufficient mettle 
and pride of country, to plant successfully our floating lion, where 
hangs like a dish-cloth, Jonathan’s ball-riddled apology for a 
flag! For myself, I declare, and call heaven to witness, I would 
rather die an hundred deaths, than survive this day’s defeat!” 

The appeal of Clinton had not been made in vain, and with 
huzzas the troops desired him to lead them on. 

At this moment, seeing the troops about to advance to a third 
assault, a murmur ran through the American lines for ammunition, 
there being but a few charges in the whole redoubt. Leaping 
over the breastwork, our hero, though greatly exposed, began to 
rifle the cartridge-boxes of his fallen foes; and a few other pa- 
triots imitating his example, a little powder was thus obtained; but 
not having bullets of suitable size, gravel stones were substituted, 
and with this meagre provision to repel, the provincials awaited 
the approach of the enemy. As they drew near and opened a 
brisk fire, the discharge of the Americans betrayed their want of 
ammunition more clearly than their recent attempts to obtain it 
had done, and Clinton gave orders to scale the works. At this 
moment the favored son of New England — the gifted Warren 


67 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 

received a bullet in his head, and fell into the arms of our hero, 
who dropped his gun to receive him. Although in a dying state, 
young Hale would have borne his friend from the works no longer 
tenable, but so impetuous was the onset of the enemy, that clubbed 
muskets and the few spontoons at hand could not restrain them, 
and amidst the melee which followed, he bent himself over the 
fallen chief, that his own body might shield him from British 
vengeance. 

“ Your hand. Hale, ’’whispered the dying man, that I may 
know you are here, for my brain is on fire, and all is darkness.” 
As the young captain pressed the hand he held, the same voice 
faintly articulated — My dear wife, and children, and aged mo- 
ther, tell them God will protect them, when I am gone; and — 
my — loved — but — injured — country,” continued the voice at in- 
tervals though husky, “ may — ^you — he^f—freeP’ The last 
word though spoken with some emphasis, was but the dying effort 
of that voice whose oratory had enchained thousands with delight; 
it was now hushed forever. 

Just as Hale caught the last words of the hero, he heard the 
click of a gun near him, and turning his head he saw that it was 
aimed at himself. Gen. Howe had that moment halted near by, 
leaning on the arm of Col. Small, and when the gun poised at 
Hale was about to be snapped again, the Colonel sprang forward 
and with his sword knocked up the piece with the exclamation^, 
“You rascal, would you shoot down an unarmed man as you 


68 


The American Spy, 


would a dog?” The bullet whistled harmlessly through the air. 
Approaching near, Col. Small addressed the victim of war, whose 
head still rested upon the knee of young Hale. My dear friend,” 
said he, I hope you are not badly hurt?” The muscles about 
the eye moved as though he heard and recognized the speaker’s 
voice, for they had once been warm personal friends, and a smile 
seemed to linger about his mouth; but it was only momentary 
for immediately after the blanched cheek gave evidence that the 
messenger on the ‘ pale horse ’ had passed by, and that the spirit 
of the immortal Warren had gone with nearly a thousand others 
from that eminence on that day, to their final rest. 

‘•And to whom, permit me to ask, am I indebted for the pre- 
servation of my life?” said Hale to the stranger, with a graceful 
inclination of the head. “ My name is John Small,” he replied, 
“ and I would fain know in whose arms the illustrious Warren 
expired?” 

“ By a providential circumstance in the arms of your prisoner, 
Nathan Hale,” responded our hero; at the same time loosening 
the clasp which confined his sword-belt. Observing that he was 
about to tender his sword, the gallant Colonel said quickly, “Re- 
tain it, sir. If not mistaken, I have the honor of now meeting 
Captain Hale of the American Infantry.” The latter bowed his 
assent. “ I see how it is,” continued the speaker, “the citizen’s 
dress tells me that my greatly esteemed but unfortunate friend 
Warren and yourself, were volunteers in this terrible conflict.” 


69 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 

“We were,” said Hale, now choking with emotion, as his 
eyes rested on the pallid countenance still reposing upon his 
knee, and he thought of the anguish in store for his friend’s sur- 
viving family. His thoughts wandered to an object far away, 
and presage whispered, ‘such may possibly be my fate ere this 
contest is over.’ 

The day after the battle, Capt. Hale was exchanged for a Brit- 
ish captain taken during the action, and returned to the American 
camp. He was in Boston a sufficient length of time, however, to 
witness the general mourning that pervaded the town: among the 
Whigs for the many brave spirits that had sealed with their lives 
their devotion to country, especially for the loss of death’s noblest 
victim, the intelligent, the generous Warren;* and among the 
Tories (who felt little sympathy for their country or countrymen,) 
for the sudden death of such a host of daring soldiers, in the front 
rank of whom stood Maj. Pitcairn of Lexington memory. 

* On the 8th day of April, 1776, the remains of Gen. Warren were reinterred, 
on which occasion a fitting Oration was delivered at the King’s Chapel in Bos- 
ton, by Perez Morton, to a large and attentive audience. 


CHAPTER VII. 


** For thee, love; for thee, love, 

I’ll brave fate’s sternest storm.” — Neele, 

In a short time after the battle of Bunker Hill, our hero re- 
turned home on a furlough of ten days. He wished to obtain such 
an outfit as would enable him to command the respect of his 
fellows. A proper wardrobe is a powerful ally for a person 
of either sex, who would figure in good society. On arriving 
at Mr. Fitch’s, where he was not expected at the time, his meet- 
ing with his Lucy was one of the most joyful kind. There is 
something in a military dress peculiarly pleasing to young ladies, 
and our heroine in common with her sex, could not fail to dis- 
cover the improvement said to be communicated to a fine figure 
by lace trimmings on a coat; she thought she had never seen her 
lover look as well before, while he in turn, found his betrothed 
maturing in all that gives loveliness to woman. 

From the time Nathan and Lucy last separated in April, as 
occasion afforded opportunity, they had experienced the pleasures 
imparted to intelligent friends when separated, by letter corres- 
pondence; now, however, their happiness seemed almost perfected. 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 


71 


The young warrior had not only been promoted to a captaincy, 
but had been exposed to death and carefully guarded from harm 
by Almighty protection. And as it was still thought by many, 
and why should not Lucy be among them, that the British min- 
istry would be brought to their senses when they saw the deter- 
mined resistance of the colonists; and that at most a few months 
more must end the contest, the happy couple anticipated that less 
than a twelvemonth would end their probation between anticipated 
and real pleasures. Lucy accepted an invitation from her lover to 
visit his sister Elizabeth, and well mounted she accompanied him 
to Prospect Hill, where, after a very delightful ride both were 
most affectionately welcomed. 

As four days at least were required by the young Captain to 
make his journey from and to the Cambridge camp, a distance of 
nearly one hundred miles, his visit must necessarily be of only six 
days’ duration — which time was industriously employed. Lucy, 
and the charming Julia Rose, whom the reader could not have 
forgotten, and who required no formal invitation in gilt edges to 
become a guest at Deacon Hale’s, assisted Elizabeth and her mo- 
ther in preparing that part of the young soldier’s wardrobe which 
Job, who begged to accompany the Captain as his waiter, could 
manage to carry on a horse. The one rode home by young Hale, 
was owned by Col. Knowlton, to whose newly organized regi- 
ment of infantry his own company was shortly after transferred. 

The six days of pleasurable bustle at the Hale dwelling fled 


72 


The American Spy, 


rapidly away, and discovered on the morning of a lovely sum- 
mer’s day the trio— the lovers and Job all mounted, (the latter 
astride a monstrous pair of saddle-bags,) and exchanging with 
relatives and neighbors, hopes, fears and good-byes. 

I tell you the world goes round — ha, ha, ha, ha,” said a 
voice approaching the semi-circle of spectators. 

‘* My friend John,” said the Continental Captain, as the circle 
opened to let poor Coleman into the ring, “ come this way and 
shake hands with me, my good fellow. Why have you not been 
to see me before?” 

“ Cause,” said the honest boy, “ I ben sick all the time. You 
know, Cap’n, I’d cum rite off if I’d ony ben well.” 

“ Had I but known you were ill,” said young Hale, kindly, ‘‘ I 
should surely have called on you.” 

“ Wood you, Cap’n; that’s clever — ha, ha, ha, ha.” 

‘‘ Indeed I would; but how do you know I am a captain?” 

“ 0, cause every body sez you is; besides I seed that shiny 
stuff on yer coat, and folks sez as how Capt’ns always has 
sich.” 

“ But don’t you mean to shake hands with me?” asked a gen- 
tle voice, the speaker at the same time extending a pretty 
hand. 

‘‘ Yes, Lucy,” said the unfortunate youth, who felt grateful 
for such marked attention, “ I’d go a great ways to shake yer 
hand — ha, ha, ha, ha.” 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 


73 


“ But I shall be jealous if you slight me,” said Miss Hale.” 

‘‘ And I too,” said Miss Rose, ^vho stood beside her. 

“ You know I always loved you, Lizzy, and you too, Julie, and 
always shall — ha, ha, ha, ha;” said the good-natured boy, taking 
both the proffered hands at once. 

Seeing the Captain about to start forward, he called to him 
to know if he might not go along; ‘‘ cause he knowed he could 
shoot them darned red coats.” 

“ Not this time, my good boy; perhaps you may at some 
future day.” 

“ Good by. Job; take nice care of the Cap’n and yerself tu — 
ha, ha, ha, ha.” 

With the good wishes of all, the trio set forward. As Job 
brought up the rear, his figure when contrasted with that of the 
lovers — as likely a pair as New England could produce — was 
ludicrious in the extreme; the fullness of the saddle-bags thrust- 
ing his monstrous understandings to a fearful distance from his 
horse. No matter if people do laugh at me, thought the faithful 
slave, since I am happy in following the fortunes of my favorite. 

Arriving at Lucy’s father’s, the young officer lifted her from 
the horse, and halted awhile to let his steeds puff. The couple 
met Mrs. Fitch at the door, who exclaimed as she welcomed 
them, I began to think you had eloped, you have staid so long 
in Coventry; Mr. Fitch and I surely expected Nathan would 
spend a day or two with us.” 

10 


74 


The Jlmerican Spy, 


After partaking of refreshments which Mrs. Fitch had soon 
in readiness, (which were also liberally bestowed on the old wait- 
er, to the filling of all his empty pockets,) our hero, as he had 
yet forty miles to travel that day, parted with his Lucy as young 
lovers are w’ont to part who are expecting ere long another and 
perhaps more joyous meeting, and was soon passing the Frog 
Pond, of which he was reminded by his waiter, who, on hearing 
the grutf voice of a frog, exclaimed, ^^Gosh! Massa, dats de 
frog wot wants CoL Dyer 

Arriving at the Cambridge camp within his time, Captain 
Hale again entered upon his military duties; sending home by 
Job to Lucy and his sister each a ring, with letters which spoke 
of bloody war, moral obligation, and immaculate love. 

I perceive that the reeider is ready to inquire, “ Why w^as not 
the same anxious solicitude manifested at the last, as at the pre- 
ceding separation of our young lovers?” Now, although Lucy 
had cautioned Job to take good care of his master, and laughingly 
told him, as he showed her his ivory, that she was willing he 
should go into the army wdth such a protector; yet we must still 
believe that more than one sigh escaped her gentle bosom; that 
the separation in fact caused her many a bitter pang, such as her 
sex does not always possess the art of conquering, but very often 
does of concealing. Exposure to certain dangers always tends to 
lessen the fear of them, and it is very probable that Capt. Hale 
parted with Lucy at this time in better spirits; with brighter 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 


75 


visions of future usefulness and glory; and with far less fear of 
death, than in the preceding April. 

Gen. Washington had now assumed the arduous duties of 
Commander-in-Chief of the American forces, and was endeavor- 
ing to infuse among them a spirit of discipline and subordination 
to military rule, but the remainder of the season was one of com- 
parative inaction. An occasional brush between the foraging 
parties of the enemy and the vigilant continentals, and the sea- 
sonable capture by privateers of now and then a British store- 
ship, were all that transpired in the vicinity of Boston worthy of 
notice until the following spring. 

In the latter part of the winter, Capt. Hale spent a few weeks 
with his friends, and on returning to the camp he allowed Job, 
whose importunity had been incessant, to accompany him as 
waiter. His visit was a very agreeable one, and his meetings 
and partings with his friends — with his Lucy in particular, much 
as they had been the preceding summer. The horse which bore 
Job, if not to the theatre of war, did at least to that of arms, was 
sold by Capt. Hale on his arrival in camp, who found the avails 
very convenient pin-money. 

About this time, as there was little to keep the minds of the 
Americans occupied, and discontent was beginning to be heard, 
troops whose term of enlistment was expiring, and whose stay 
until fresh troops should come in, the officers found it difficult to 
persuade — our hero induced the men of his own company to 


76 


The American Spy, 


remain on duty, by borrowing money on the credit of his own 
pay to liquidate their dues. This example, at that particular 
time, gave the general officers renewed confidence, and Gen. Lee 
sought the young Captain’s tent, and tendered in person his own 
grateful thanks for so unexpected a precedent. 

On the evening of March 4th, 1776, the Americans, under 
Gen. Thomas, took possession of Dorchester heights, and Gen. 
How’^e, who had succeeded Gen. Gage, fearing another Bunker 
Hill affair, and probably the loss of another bet, did not dare 
attempt to dislodge them, but embarked his troops on the 17th 
of the same month, evacuating Boston, which had been subjected 
to British dominion for nearly a year, to the unbounded joy of its 
patriotic inhabitants. It was supposed that the destination of 
the enemy would be New York city, and to that place Washing- 
ton hastened his army. As the division of it to which our hero 
belonged was about to march, he obtained permission of Col. 
Knowlton to visit Coventry. As he had done in a previous visit, 
he called on Lucy, who, as he could make but a soldier’s halt, 
was easily persuaded to accompany him to his father’s. He spent 
two nights and one day with his friends, in recounting the scenes 
of the camp, and in talking over the past, present, and probable 
future. He was confident in his belief that his country would 
eventually triumph over her foes; but a kind of melancholy 
seemed to hang about him; he was less mirthful than at the last 
interview ; and seeing that his nuptial day must now be indefi- 


77 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 

nitely postponed, he evidently indulged a secret foreboding that 
it possibly might never arrive. As his friends were all looking 
on the bright side of the picture, he strove to appear cheerful; 
and when he assisted his plighted upon her horse, and mounted 
his own to see her home, his sallies of witty pleasantry were 
mistaken by some of his friends for cheerfulness; yet two there 
were, and two whom he dearly loved, who detected his attempts 
to conceal his real feelings. Those two were his own sister and 
his love, neither of whom communicated their suspicions through 
fear of exciting uneasiness. 

After spending an hour at the house of Mr. Fitch, our hero 
again parted with the cherished one of his bosom — the day-star 
of his existence; and if his looks had not before betrayed his 
feelings, his nervous hand would now have done it, as he held 
the delicate one of Lucy in his“own. Yes, that hand which did 
not tremble in the deadly fight of Bunker Hill, did tremble when 
it received for the last time forever, the warm hand of his inten- 
ded; and imprinting a soul-thrilling kiss on those ruddy lips 
his own should never again touch. He knew not that it was 
the last time, however, and hope, the soul’s great anchor, kept 
not only his own, but the heart of his Lucy whole, although 
anxious doubts did interpose. 

Zeb, who had conceived a liking for Capt. Hale, led his horse 
to the door and adjusted the stirrups, when he mounted, and 
waving an adieu to the family who were all on a green lawn be- 


78 


The American Spy, 


fore the door, he took his final departure, and was soon out of 
sight. We can not reenter the house with Miss Ripley, and wit- 
ness the gushing of those scalding tears which would rind their 
way out, despite the best efforts of a feeling woman to conceal 
them — to hear those half stifled sighs which could not be sup- 
pressed, or see the wo-begone countenance that for days haunted 
our accomplished heroine; but must follow the fortunes of her 
lover. He directed his course towards New Haven, with far dif- 
ferent thoughts, however, than those which occupied his mind 
nearly two years before, while passing over the same road with 
young Fitch and his cousin, and overtook his regiment and as- 
sumed the command of his company not far from the city, to the 
undisguised joy of Job, who had guarded his effects and reputa- 
tion, in his absence, with the anxiety of a parent. 

Job, having become tired of a military life, was allowed to re- 
turn home; and Capt. Hale fortunately procured a ride for him 
nearly all the way. He exhibited no little sorrow at parting 
with ‘ Massa Nathan,’ and the curve in his under lip on the oc- 
casion, appeared an inch larger than usual. He was made the 
bearer of several messages, all of which were verbal for the want 
of time to write, except a brief note to Miss Ripley. Having 
employed Asher Wright as secretary and waiter, our hero marched 
on with the troops to New York. 

As may be supposed. Job had many wonderful stories to tell 
the stranger in whose company he rode, and in due time he arriv- 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 


79 


ed among his friends, where the same yarn magnified, and scores 
of others, each more marvelous than the last, were also related. 
On reaching Windham, he was a most welcome guest at Fitch’s; 
and as he had seen her lover since herself, Miss Ripley propounded 
not a few questions to his willing ears. Slipping the letter from 
Nathan into her hand, she ran to her chamber to read it; and as 
it proved to be the last she ever received from him, we make room 
for it. 

“American Camp, near New Haven, } 

“ March 25th, 1776. \ 

“ My own dear Lucy: 

“ 1 am once more at the head of my brave lads; I say brave, 
because I have no doubt they will prove such, if occasion re- 
quires. I have now too little time, bright star of my life, to 
picture the regret and shaded reflection I experienced after our 
last parting. I hurried on to overtake the troops, with your fond 
image constantly before me, and the wanton carol of every free 
songster along the roadside, awakened a response of melancholy 
that I was — ^indeed, that all my countrymen were less free. When 
this contest will end, and whether it will end with such freedom 
to our American Provinces, is only known to Him ‘who directs 
the storm,’ and protects the ‘shorn lamb.’ 

“ My faithful old waiter, who became tired of a monotonous 
camp life, and now finds himself growing too infirm to make long 
marches, will communicate some requests I have not time to note. 
Write to me as often as you can find conveyance for a letter — 


80 The American Spy, 

pray to that God who hath declared ‘the battle is not always to 
the strong,’ for the triumph of freedom over tyranny ^ and whe- 
ther our nuptial day shall ever arrive, or stern fate decree that I 
become a sacrifice, (for no oblation must be too great for my 
bleeding country,) rest assured so long as life endures, you can 
count on the sincere and devoted love of 

“ Your Nathan.” 

A perusal and a reperusal of this letter, for it was read again 
and again, could not afford that joyful solace the reader could 
have wished in an epistle from a lover — indeed, how could it be 
expected to, written in a moving camp, in the midst of a civil 
war? Dangers w’ere scattering broad-cast o’er the land, and well 
did the sensible Lucy Ripley know, that the first southern gale 
might bring her tidings that her Nathan was either among the 
wounded or slain — he having fallen a victim to British malice. 
Although conscious that perils were round about the footsteps of 
a soldier, still, thought Lucy, this letter is too self-sacrificing — 
too willing to court hazard upon the die of war. True, thought 
again whispered her, one of the noblest characteristics of a good 
soldier must forever be, a readiness to seek that post the most ex- 
posed, and the duty of a good officer must beset his footsteps with 
pit-falls and thunder-bolts; but why speak so seeming indiffer- 
ent about our wedding day? Alas! our heroine did not then 
know as well as her lover, who desired not to awaken hopes to- 
day to be crushed to-morrow, what terrible carnage was expected 



N 



RETREAT FROM LONG ISLAND AUG. 29 1/76 















Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice. 


81 


soon to follow in the wake of the moving Briton; and well was 
it for her she did not The American and English armies had 
been in close proximity for many months without much blood- 
shed, after the battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill, which cir- 
cumstances tended greatly to allay the fears of many, and increase 
their hopes of yet etfecting a reconciliation with the mother 
country; but, from the movements of an increased force, a por- 
tion of which had already been censured for inactivity by the 
British Parliament, a crimson torrent drawn from thousands of 
veins, wJis expected in a few months to flow over the length 
and breadth of the land. 

Lucy sustained herself under the separation as best she could, 
in the meantime our hero marched on to the vicinity of New 
York. 

Many important events which transpired during the summer, 
we must pass over in silence. On the 4th day of July the Decla- 
ration of American Independence, the title page of our National 
History, was adopted in Congress, and cheerfully proclaimed 
throughout the Union. The separation from England was now 
effectually consummated, if the states could but maintain it. In 
the same month the disasters of Long Island w^ere added to the 
catalogue of American trials, and the republican troops compell- 
ed to withdraw in the night from Brooklyn to New York city. 

In one of the battles near Brooklyn, a body of Americans un- 
der Gen. Putnam were engaged with a superior force commanded 
II 


82 


The American Spy^ 


by Sir Henry Clinton, when our hero was afforded a fine oppor- 
tunity to test the bravery of his men. While thus engaged, and 
the company of the daring Capt. Dana, with that of Hale, w^ere 
keeping nearly a whole British regiment at bay, several compa- 
nies of Hessians had almost surrounded Hale’s before he would 
order a retreat. Prest on all sides, the gallant sons of New Eng- 
land fought like tigers, and platoon after platoon of the disciplin- 
ed soldiers, hired to slaughter Americans, were slain. The pro- 
vincials had nearly forced a free passage to a larger body of their 
fellows when of a sudden our hero found himself separated from 
his ‘brave lads,’ by several of his foes and a clump of trees; at 
which moment he saw nearly a dozen Hessians bent on his cap- 
ture. Preparing to sell his life as dearly as possible, he had 
placed his back against a tree, when he heard the voice of his 
orderly sergeant exclaim, “Not without our captain, will Heave 
the ground!” With a desperate effort, in which several on both 
sides were killed, the non-commissioned officer opened a passage 
for himself and two others to the object of search. Grateful for 
the temporary succor, our hero, striking down the first two who 
dared resist his progress, succeeded with the aid of the trio, in 
effecting his escape and joining the main army. He had come 
off with a few slight wounds, but the consequences of war, ever 
to be dreaded, were rendered vividly apparent, when, on muster- 
ing his men in the evening, he found that at least every third 
man in his company had been left on the battle field, in a vain 
attempt to repel the invaders of their soil. 




\ 


t 


MAJ. GEN. ISRAEL PUTNAM. 



14// / 7. 0(y7'yz 


Piairte.d liy’VVTPate 



O.P. Zc CO. 





Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice. 


83 


Among other causes of distress known to the army of Wash- 
ington from the beginning to the close of the war, was the want 
of provisions and clothing. While the American army were at 
New York, an English sloop known to be laden with such sup- 
plies, anchored in the East River under the protection of the 
British ship Asia. To captuie this sloop and bring her into New 
York, was a project conceived by our hero, and boldly executed. 
With ten stout-hearted and strong-fisted volunteers in a boat 
with muffled oars, just after midnight, he put out from a small 
cove to the sloop. So secure had the men of the vessel felt, 
moored as they were within a cable’s length of a mighty ship, 
that two hours before, every one of them I ad gone below to sleep. 
Passing round the vessel to satisfy himself no line extended from 
her to the man-of-war, the Captain and three others gained the 
deck, and secured the hatches. Having made a rope fast to her 
bow, they re-entered the boat and cut the cable near the water. 
All had been accomplished so silently as not to awaken a man 
on the vessel, or attract the attention of the Asia’s sentinels. 

The boat’s crew now^ began to ply their oars, and soon had the 
satisfaction, favored as they were by the tide, of finding the stolen 
craft to follow them. By incessant labor the prize was moored 
before daylight out of the reach of the enemy’s guns, and under 
cover of an American battery. At break of day the sentry upon 
the Asia’s deck announced to the officer of the watch, that the 
sloop had disappeared. Alarm was quickly communicated to the 


84 


The American Spy, 


naval commander, who at first supposed its Captain had turned 
traitor, but a little reflection had satisfied him that the vessel had 
been ‘spirited away,’ not by its friends but by some shrewd Jona- 
thans, “ Who,” he exclaimed with an oath, “ were ever taking 
advantage of honest men in their sleep.” At daylight our hero, 
who had kept vigilant watch upon his prisoners, some dozen in 
number, entered the cabin, and awaking the Captain from a sound 
sleep, enquired “ if it w^ere not time for business men to be up?” 

Starting as from a night-mare and seeing an officer in Conti- 
nental garb and several armed men before him, the English Lieu- 
tenant, for such he proved, exclaimed with great surprise, as he 
reached for his side arms, which precaution had removed — ^^And 
who the d — I are youV* 

“ An American, sir,” replied Hale, “ who, becoming tired of 
the land service joined the navy last night, and for his dehut took 
yourself and men prisoners.” The fact was too apparent to be 
contradicted, when, on bounding from his berth he saw the scarlet 
banner at the mast head; and with as good a grace as possible, 
he yielded obedience to the new commander of marines. The 
supplies thus seasonably obtained, Gen. Washington allowed our 
hero, who he complimented for his daring exploit, to distribute 
in such a manner as his own judgment should dictate. Of him 
the great Washington said next day to Col. Knowlton — “ With 
ten thousand such spirits as that of Hale, your youngest Captain, 
the liberties of America were safe .'” 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice. 


85 


The food, clothing, and ammunition thus opportunely taken by 
our hero, after giving a liberal share to the men who aided him 
in its capture, he bestowed on the most needy in the American 
camp. Nor w^as the feat here related by any means the only 
one originated and put in execution by him, in order to harrass 
the enemy and provide the needful for the army, while station- 
ed in the vicinity of New York. He had numerous expedients 
on foot, not a few of which proved successful. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


“ There is but one philosophy though there are a thousand schools — and its 
name is fortitude.” — Bulwer. 

A few days before the Americans found it necessary to evacuate 
New York, Gen. Washington conceived it to be of vital impor- 
tance to him in shaping future operations, to learn the numerical 
strength and intended movements of the enemy then in possession 
of Brooklyn — indeed of all Long Island, Every reliable source 
for such information had failed him, and yet on the acquirement of 
such knowledge seemed suspended the destinies of the country. 
A few officers in the advising confidence of the great Commander 
were assembled in council, at which it was resolved to send an 
individual competent to make the required observations, into the 
heart of the British camp. Several persons were named from 
which to select, and among them the generous and noble hearted 
Hale, but at the bare suggestion of his name, the mind of Wash- 
ington seemed to recoil with a shudder — He is altogether too 
valuable an officer , said he “ to risk in such an enterprise.^’ It 
was finally left to Col. Knowlton to select a suitable person. 

The Colonel soon after assembled the Captains of his regiment, 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice. 87 

and enjoining secresy, made known the wishes of the Commander- 
in-Chief, and requested each of them to name the most suitable 
person of his own command to execute the dangerous mission. 
Each named his man, but not one of the number could be per- 
suaded to undertake it. “ Do you think I wish to be hung up like 
a stalled ox 7" said the first; ‘‘ Can you suppose 1 never wish to 
see my wife and children again!" asked the second ; Would you 
subject me to the mercy of cut-throats and villains?" interrogated 
a third; Pray, would you have me die before my time?" re- 
sponded a fourth; and with similar objections did all excuse 
themselves from the unenviable task. 

Dejected at not finding a person willing to undertake the 
duty with which he was entrusted, Colonel Knowlton sought the 
tent of our hero — the interview was one of thrilling interest. 

“ I can not ask you to undertake this unenviable project,” said 
the Colonel, “ and yet, somehow or other, my mind seems to 
whisper me that unless you do, it will not be successfully ac- 
complished,” 

Hale had secretly resolved that if no one else in Knowlton’s 
Infantry could be induced to, he would incur the hazard. He 
knew’ the stigma which the custom of nations cast upon the con- 
duct of a spy. He knew, too, how his motives might be impugn- 
ed if unsuccessful, and he suffered the penalty of the law. He 
keenly felt how dear his Lucy was to him, as also his parents, sis- 
ter, other relatives and friends. But the love of country triumphed 


88 The American Spy, 

over all other loves. “ What would be wife and friends to me — 
what life itself,” thought he, “ if my country be shackled with 
the chains of despotism V* 

After a few minutes’ communion with himself, in which his face 
was buried in his hands, he said, with a degree of calmness which 
quite surprised the Colonel— “ My life, sir, although peculiarly 
dear to me at this time from the consideration of possessing many 
sincere friends — and one still dearer than the rest to whom I am 
now plighted, our bridal-day having been delayed by the duties 
of this campaign, is at the service of my suffering country, in 
any duty our great Commander may impose. It was not a de- 
sire for personal fame which induced me to adopt the life of a 
soldier — no, I entered the army in the hope of being useful to my 
countrymen 5 and had I a thousand lives, 1 would cheerfully give 
them, if necessary, to purchase liberty for my country! I will 
immediately prepare for this business, but must require of you a 
promise, my dear Colonel, that if I am unsuccessful, the motives 
which influenced me shall be made known to the world,^^ 

“ That promise I most cheerfully make — but you do not an- 
ticipate such a result, I trust said the Colonel. 

“ I scarcely know how I ought to answer your question,” re- 
plied our hero, “ but I must say that of late I seem to have a 
presentiment that some dread catastrophe is about to happen, 
either to myself or the army. But of this, enough. You have 
long known my respected father; you know what he now thinks 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 


89 


of me; if on a gibbet I end my days, go to him — dry up his tears 
with the consolation your words w’ill have, w’hen you assure 
him that a sense of duty and devotion to country alone influenced 
me, and that trusting in the God of battles I undertook this peril- 
ous service. 

The brave Knowlton, whose tears gushed forth unbidden at 
the evidence of so much disinterested benevolence — such self- 
sacrificing devotion to country, communicated the specific in- 
formation Washington desired; and taking the hand of our hero, 
as he arose to depart, he agreed, if his life was spared to do it, 
to execute, in case of necessity, his every wish. 

Again left to himself. Hale instantly began arranging his affairs 
for an early start on the morrow. Several of his fellow officers, 
in the secret, vainly endeavored to dissuade him from his perilous 
engagement; and at the dawn of day, having given his lieutenant 
directions about his command, attended only by his own servant, 
he quit the American camp. He proceeded directly to Norwalk, 
in Connecticut, distant from New York nearly fifty miles, where 
he left his horse with his waiter, young Wright, to whom he con- 
fided a secret message for his intended bride, in case he did not 
return. He would have written to her, but for the want of ink 
and paper, articles often desired though seldom at hand among 
the American soldiers, in the early part of the war. Thrice while 
communicating to his faithful attendant the message for Miss 
Ripley, he thrust his hand into his bosom, as though he would 
12 


90 The American Spy, 

remove some cherished object, requiring an effort of the mind, 
and then he said to himself, “ No, no; we must not part yet.” 

Doffing his military garb, he assumed that of a private citizen, 
and with it the character of a school-master. From the vicinity 
of Norwalk he procured a passage across the sound in a small 
boat, and landing on Long Island, directed his steps, on foot, 
toward Brooklyn. Arriving there. Hale learned that most of the 
British army had passed over to New York, evacuated by the 
Americans the day before; and after making the requisite ob- 
servations on the Island, he proceeded to the city — well sus- 
taining the character he had chosen, and well executing the ob- 
ject of his disguise. 

Entering New York so soon after it fell into the hands of the 
enemy, when most of its citizens were strangers to their officers. 
Hale found it not very difficult to pass for a citizen neutral in 
the contest. His previous stay of some weeks in the city seem- 
ed to favor such a notion, for he appeared to the officers and 
men with whom he conversed, to be familiar with every street, 
lane and avenue. 

A night or two after he arrived in the city, it was visited by a 
destructive fire, which cousumed nearly a thousand buildings. 
Going to the scene of conflagration soon after the fire broke out. 
Hale discovered across the street his German friend, Staudt. Be- 
ing at Boston when the war began, the British had taken him 
into their service under moderate pay, and had retained him 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 


91 


literally to do nothing, but ostensibly to keep him from proving 
in any degree serviceable to the rebels, in the practice of chem- 
istry. Watching an opportunity when unobserved in the con- 
fusion attendant upon such scenes, our hero approached the hon- 
est German and made himself known. The foreigner was about 
to express his surprise and joy at the recognition; but turning his 
head at the moment the young continental saw two British offi- 
cers arm in arm coming directly towards them; placing his hand 
significantly on his mouth, with an inclination of his head which 
caused his companion to look around, he said in a low voice, 
“ Secresy, my friend — meet me in John street and in the next 
moment he had disappeared. 

As the two officers came up to Staudt, one of them who 
thought he “ smelt a rat,” in vulgar parlance, addressing him by 
name, casually inquired, “ Who he had just been talking with?” 

Surprised at hearing his own name, the German looked up 
and instantly recognized the speaker as Samuel Hale, to whom 
he respectfully raised his hat and replied: 

“ Yas, ow shood I no, Moosther Ale — he pees somepody vat 
kums to the vire.” 

‘‘ But you seemed to be in earnest conversation; what was it 
about? Be careful old fox, you don’t deceive me,” continued 
the royalist lieutenant, for such he proved. 

“ Ho, I ton’t deseves nopoty. He vos jist telling me pout de 
hoose as vas plown up mit bowter, an I vas surprise.” 


92 


The American Spy, 


“ What do you say, a house blown up with powder?” 

“ Yes, yes,” said his companion, pulling him by the arm, “ I 
heard of it before I overtook you; the house chanced to contain 
several kegs, supposed to have been concealed by the rebels; 
come along, I will tell you all about it. But who,” he inquired, 
as they moved on a few paces, and again halted within his hear- 
ing, “ is this old Dutchman with whom you seem acquainted?” 

“ It is a pretended chemist, an old codger I met some time 
since in Connecticut,” said Hale, ‘‘ and I’ll lay a dollar he is this 
day more of a Whig than a Tory; although he is under pay in 
our camp. Seeing him reminds me of a little love affair 1 had 
at the place where I met him.” 

“ Indeed!” exclaimed the young Briton, “ pray do relate it.” 

“ It was hardly worth remembering till now,” said the Tory, 
“ I fancied a country girl to be rather pretty, because her name 
was Rose; but on acquaintance I changed my mind and gave 
her the go-by.” 

“ 0, that’s all, is it? ‘ and thereby hangs a tale,’ I suppose,” 
said his friend, as they resumed their march. 

“Ha, ha, ha! shower grape, dat Miss Rose vor you,” said 
Staudt, as the young bloods walked on. “ Val, me make von 
cute turn mit de bowter; but I must look vor vind Moosther 
Natan Ale.” So saying the German started in the direction of 
John street, muttering to himself sundry imprecations on the 
head of his loyal catechist, for sneering at his knowledge of 
chemistry, which, it now appeared he had also done in Coventry. 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 


93 


No street could be very dark in a city, the half of which, to 
appearance, was on fire, but in the most shaded part of John 
street, the German found the object of his search. Within an 
old building in a lane now knowm as Dutch street, a long and 
secret conference was held by the two friends. Some of the in- 
formation desired by Washington, the spy was enabled to obtain 
from his friend, w^ho readily promised to undertake the collection 
of still more. Agreeing to meet at 8 o’clock, three evenings 
after, near the leaden statue of King George,* the two now 
sought their own lodgings. 

The appointed interview of our hero with Staudt took place, 
as did several subsequent ones, at all of which the especial busi- 
ness of the former went swimmingly on. At the second inter- 
view he learned, however, and to his unfeigned regret, that in a 
battle fought above New York soon after the Americans left it, 
his warm personal friend, the daring Col. Knowdton, had been 
slain; that the cause in which his own life was periled, had 

* At the beginning of the Revolution, a leaden statue of King George was 
standing at the foot of Broadway, where now stands a water fountain in the 
Bowling Green. At an early period it was taken down by the patriots and 
moulded into bullets. It is believed that the British restored it, on gaining 
possession of that city. 

Next to nothing was known of the geological resources of the country, and 
so difficult did the Americans find it to procure lead in the Revolution, that 
they were compelled to pay most extravagant prices for it; on which account 
many of the antique leaden window casings and sash imported by the early 
Dutch settlers of New York and Albany, which would now be highly valued 
as curiosities, were melted up by their penurious owners, and sold to the 
government. 


94 


The American Spy, 


thus sustained its greatest loss since the death of Warren. 
Having completed his observations, all of which were carefully 
noted down in a small pass-book and concealed in an inner part 
of his vest, the spy took leave of his colleague and left the city 
about noon, in the direction of the American camp. 

Destiny shrouds her acts in mystery 

Often, lest man in horror from them shrink. 

Proceeding leisurely along, our hero passed party after party 
of straggling troops without exciting the least suspicion. He felt 
how important to the American cause had been his mission, how 
rejoiced would be the great W^ashington to learn so many future 
plans of the enemy; and conscious that he could not be far from 
the American pickets, he began to breathe more freely. At 
length he had passed the last British outpost, and on yonder 
eminence saw an American fire. He entered a little coppice of 
wood, and on emerging from its opposite side, he observed near 
and directly in his course, a small company of soldiers he could 
not mistake for continentals, for they were clad in British uni- 
forms. ‘‘ If I go back to the wood,” thought he, “ I shall surely 
excite suspicion, if I go to “ The Cedars,” (a country inn a little 
way off,) I shall find that occupied by the enemy. I will there- 
fore approach them. Could he have known that any of the num- 
ber would recognize him, he certainly would have returned, and 
by a circuituous route and possibly a chase, taken the hazard if 
need be, of their fire. He continued to advance as if impelled 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice. 95 

by fate, and when too late to retreat if he would, discovered to 
his dismay that the officer commanding the corps, was Lieuten- 
ant Hale, his Tory kinsman. The recognition was mutual, and 
as Samuel advanced and extended his hand, he exclaimed, 
‘* How are you, cousin Nate ? We rebels “ never lieP^ 

After a few formal questions and answers about far-off friends 
our hero would have resumed his journey, but by a signal from 
the lieutenant, the bright bayonets of his followers were pre- 
sented at his breast, with the imperative order from a corporal to 
stand. “ Sir,’’ said the lieutenant, the appearance of a conti- 
nental officer coming from the direction of our camp in a citi- 
zen’s dress, and approaching that of the king’s foes, look most 
suspicious; and although we are relatives, I should be unworthy 
of the trust reposed in me, did I not arrest and conduct you be- 
fore Gen. Howe. You will therefore consider yourself my 
prisoner. And lest you should attempt to escape, I shall be 
constrained,” added the sprig of loyalty in a most haughty and 
insolent manner, “ to put the cords of stability upon your pretty 
arms, my chop-fallen cousin !” and at a given signal two of 
the men stepped forward to bind him. 

That the countenance of our hero grew sad can not be doubted, 
since from the first salutation of his cousin he read his fate, 
knew that his days were probably numbered, and in fancy saw 
the gibbet; but if dejected, it was not that he feared death — for 
that he had long been prepared. Such cold-hearted indifference 


96 


The American Spy, 


to the just claims of human nature, such base ingratitude in fact; 
for more than one untold act of kindness had the prisoner ren- 
dered his kinsman, aroused his spirit, and self-possession if wan- 
ing; and folding his arms across his breast with dignity, and fix- 
ing his eyes calmly on the epauletted sprig of nobility, in a tone of 
sarcastic irony, he thus addressed him ; “ Call me not cousin, 
most valiant hero! I scorn to own a kinsman, who is either so 
great a coward he dares not in open day, with twenty brave men 
well equipped, convey one unarmed citizen into camp without 
“cords of stability,” as he is pleased to term them; or who is so 
entirely dead to all the dictates of common humanity, as to treat 
with such cold indifference a long known and often tried personal 
friend. ‘0 shame, where is thy blush?’ And believe me, sir, 
if 'my countenance indicates sadness, it is caused more by sym- 
pathy for a man devoid bf moral principles — for one whose night- 
ly debauches, if his looks and actions do no belie, must soon 
prove his ruin, than by the apprehension of any danger which 
awaits my own person.” 

“ Well Nate, I don’t see but you can preach morality as well as 
ever; and as we are in want of chaplains just now, possibly Gen. 
Howe will retain you in the service. But my dear coz, do tell 
me what you was doing here on this neutral ground, for I declare, 
in the midst of your sermonizing, I had forgotten to ask you.” 
He had no doubt divined his errand. 

Without deigning a reply to the insolvent servant of tyranny. 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 97 

the spy turned round as if ready to be bound, but the two soldiers 
with the cord, admiring his spirit of manly daring, had gone 
back to the ranks, supposing from the tenor of his address, the 
order would not be enforced. Seeing the men in their places he 
again ordered them out, and at the end of a dozen horrid oaths, 
he exclaimed: Bind the moral rascal, or yourselves shall be 

bound I” 

Men however depraved or however dissipated, in their sober 
moments, unless so steeped in pollution as to become stone-dead 
to sensibility, seldom fail to look approvingly on those who pos- 
sess virtues of a rare and ennobling quality. The cord was now 
fastened (evidently with an ill-grace by the soldiers,) to the arms 
above the elbows — the lieutenant approaching to see that it was 
adjusted sufficiently tight to suit him, and the party moved on 
towards the city. The feelings of our hero in retracing his steps 
maybe better imagined than described. He felt conscious from 
the infamous treatment of his kinsman, that he was walking on 
the very brink of worldly ruin; and yet his step was firm and 
unshaken, for he feared not to die. 

Few words passed between the Hale cousins while returning to 
New York, and about the going down of the sun, our hero was 
ushered into the presence of Gen. Howe. The standing of the 
prisoner as a partizan officer, was known to the General from his 
Bunker Hill acquaintance; and the testimony of the lieutenant as 
to his arrest and the circumstances attending it, which evidence 
13 


98 


The American Spy, 


was corroborated by several of the soldiers present, made the case 
so clear against him that he confessed the object of his mission. 
His confession seemed to render the search of his person unneces- 
sary, and so slight was it, that all the evidence of guilt upon him 
was not discovered: a few drawings of the camp at Brooklyn, 
w^ith descriptions written out in latin, were however found between 
the soles of the pumps which he wore. That the memorandum 
should not fall into the hands of his enemies, and that possibly it 
might reach Gen. Washington in time to have some portions of 
it prove serviceable, was the reason of his frank avowal. 

Without calling a court-martial — without entering into even 
the forms of a trial, or granting a single day’s respite for the sol- 
dier to contemplate on death, Howe gave orders for his execution 
upon the gallows, at the rising of the morrow* s sun; and he was 
instantly conducted to prison. Whether Lieutenant Hale took 
any pride in his ungrateful conduct towards his kinsman or not, 
we can not say. He had the satisfaction, if such it was to him , 
when at the prison door, of hearing him utter in a spirit of gen- 
tle reproof and triumph, his J^ew Haven motto, as the Tory called 
it; and ever after did the words never lie! ring in his unwilling 
ear. 

Staudt was allowed a peep into almost every corner of the 
city, he being a source of no little amusement to the British 
soldiers, who were pleased with his adventurous narratives and 
imperfect English. Learning in the street that his friend was 





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Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 


99 


confined under sentence of death, to the prison door he directed 
his steps. Under some pretext he was permitted to enter and see 
the prisoner. His emotions at first threatened to thwart the 
plans of our hero, whose only wish seemed now to be, that the 
present interview should not be lost. 

As soon as his friend could control his feelings, our hero gave 
him the pass-book containing the information so much desired by 
Gen. Washington, with instructions how to convey it to the Ame- 
rican camp — cautioning him against danger of its being found 
upon his person. He communicated several brief messages to all 
the members of his father’s family, not forgetting even Job; and 
told him that if he w^ent to Coventry, he would always find at his 
father’s, not only friends, but a home — to his class-mate, Fitch, 
crazy John, and Miss Rose, the condemned sent also a dying me- 
morial. That to the latter was merely a last farewell with a con- 
gratulation that she had rejected a suitor, who had not only 6e- 
trayed his country, but one of his sincerest friends. In all that 
he had said he betrayed no emotions, until unloosing his vest he 
drew from his bosom a locket — This,’’ said he, in a low and 
tremulous voice, “ is the last friend with whom I must part, except 
yourself, this side of eternity. Give it to her whose lovely im^ 
age it hears, and tell her I restore to her the sunbeam of my ex-- 
istence — tell her, too^ that I release her from our nuptial vow, 
and that I die cherishing her memory!” 

Hale knew that the integrity and retentive memory of his 


100 


The American Spy, 


friend would enable him faithfully to execute his every trust, if 
he but lived to revisit Coventry. The honest German was about 
planning an escape, but the brave man would not listen to it, and 
had barely time to give his visitor a few articles about his person 
to convey to his friends, and urge his acceptance of a small purse 
of money, which he said would go to that greatest of all unhung 
knaves, Cunningham, the jail marshal, if he did not receive it, 
when the keeper returned and the interview closed. For a little 
time after Staudt had left his cell, the emotions of the prisoner, 
breathing as he was a contaminated atmosphere, had nearly suf- 
focated him; but the consolations of religion burst upon his soul, 
and calm devotion at length occupied his thoughts. Kneeling 
down, he prayed long and fervently; and in that petition was 
not only remembered the cause of his distracted country, his (soon 
to be) heart-broken Lucy, and other near and now doubly dear 
friends; but the reformation and salvation of his refugee cousin 
was devoutly implored. 

With his mind thus fortified, the prisoner requested of the 
keeper, who was not devoid of all sensibility, materials for writ- 
ing, which were granted and paid for. He then wrote an affec- 
tionate letter to his honored father, to his beloved sister, and 
still dearer Lucy; in all of which he had given evidence in the 
strongest terms of his willingness to die for his country; and 
with only a few hours between him and the invisible world, he 
laid down upon a scanty heap of straw and slept. 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 


101 


The day -king had scarcely illumined the eastern horizon, when 
the brutal Cunningham, with an executioner, was at the cell of 
the doomed; and as the latter awoke on Sabbath mornings the 
22d of September y to a consciousness ofhis real situation — for his 
dreams had been blissful, there stood, impatient for his blood, the 
hirelings of Britain. All communications written by prisoners 
under sentence of death, were subjected to the perusal of the pro- 
vost Marshal, who could allow them to »be forwarded as directed 
or destroy them. With an exulting smile he took up the one 
nearest and read aloud its superscription: “To Deacon Richard 
Hale.” “ 0, ho! to a deacon, is itl well. I’ll see whether a 
deacon will be likely to prove more rebellious on its perusal.” 

He began to read, and as he advanced, the muscles of his face 
grew more and more rigid, and ere he had finished, a scowl rest- 
ed upon his brow. Without a word of comment he took up each 
of the others and perused them with the same apparent look of 
disappointment. Seeing him about to destroy them, our hero 
entreated him as the request of a dying man, whom he might ere 
long meet in another world, to let the several letters, at least the 
one to Miss Ripley, go as directed. Profanity and intemperance 
are war’s attendants, and at the end of a terrible oath he said with 
emphasis — “ It would not do! and more than that, it shall not 
he/’’ So saying, he spread them — tore them into threads, and 
cast them contemptuously beneath his feet. 

Hale now requested a few moments’ interview with a chap- 


102 


The American Spy, 


lain; this favor was coldly denied him. As a last earthly peti- 
tion, he desired only for a few moments, the loan of a Bible. 
This little indulgence, too, was refused with an oath, and to the 
infamy of the British officers on that station be it said, for know- 
ing the fiendish character of Cunningham, they retained him; 
indeed, for being a devil-on-foot had they given him his station. 

In view of such base treatment, the prisoner exclaimed — “ God 
of Heaven, to whose mercy I commend my soul, hear me wit- 
ness, that I die lamenting that I have only one life to lose for 
my oppressed countryP^ He was then conducted in shackles to 
the public gallows of the enemy behind the Upper Barracks, 
where he suffered death unpitied by any eye, save that of Deity, 
with such fortitude as excited the astonishment of his execu- 
tioners, and possibly that of a few vagabond spectators. Thus 
ignobly, fell Liberty’s Hero — Freedom’s Early Sacrifice! 

The last written letters of Hale, glowed with a lofty strain of 
patriotism and resignation. Could not even the one destined to 
serve as balm to that heart which must feel his loss most keenly, 
be allowed to reach its destination? Alas! no. ‘ It would not do.’ 
Cunningham afterwards assigned to his friends as a reason for 
their destruction: “ That he did not wish the rebels to know that 
one of their kidney could die with such fortitude,” In view of 
this patriot’s death, well might the poet Dwight inscribe — 

“ Thus did fond virtue wish in vain to save 
Hale, bright and generous, from a hapless grave; 

With genius’ living flame his bosom glow’d, 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 

And Science charmed him to her blest abode, — 

In worth’s fair path his feet had ventured far, 

The pridt of peace the rising grace of war ^ — 

In duty firm, in danger calm as ev’n, 

To friends unchanging, and sincere to Heaven, 

How short his course, the prize how early won, 
While weeping friendship mourns her fav’rite gone,” 


103 


CHAPTER IX. 


“ The scene of Death is closed! the mournful strains 
Dissolve in dying languor on the ear*, 

Yet Pity weeps, yet Sympathy complains. 

And dumb Suspense awaits o’erwhelm’d with fear.” — Falconer, 

Immediately after the execution of Capt. Hale, a flag was sent 
by Gen. Howe to the American lines, exultingly to proclaim the 
fact of his arrest and death; and if the prospect of patriots in 
arms looked gloomy before, this event could not fail to increase 
their despondency. Long and bitterly did ‘ the father of his 
country’ mourn the untimely fate of the ripe scholar — the devout 
Christian — the true patriot*^the noble Hale. In a historical 
work, the writer has already contrasted the death of this hero 
with that of Maj. Andre, who afterwards became a victim in the 
same war. The character of the former did not then — nor can it 
ever suffer by the position, from the pen of fairness. The cele- 
brated court which tried the British spy four years after the death 
of the American, if not influenced in its decision by the unfeel- 
ing treatment meted to the latter, had it most vividly in remem- 
brance. 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 


105 


Wright, the waiter of Capt. Hale, communicated his tragic 
fate to the family, w'ho were overwhelmed at the shock, and the 
father deprived of his reason in consequence. What the secret 
message was which he bore to the heart-stricken Lucy, we are 
not informed — it must have been similar, however, to the one 
communicated toStaudt in the city prison. The latter embraced 
the first opportunity to leave New York, where he had sown some 
of the seeds of rebellion among the Hessian troops, and gain the 
camp of Washington, whose surprise at receiving Hale’s memo- 
randum must have been very great. Most of the information it 
contained, however, was received a few weeks too late to prove 
serviceable. For the faithful execution of his trust, the German 
received the hearty thanks of the great Commander, and a suit- 
able compensation. 

Proceeding to Windham and Coventry, Staudt fulfilled the 
dying commands of his military friend to the letter. From that 
period he for several years found a home at the Hale dwelling; 
and often did he and Job mingle their tears, when recounting the 
many good deeds of our hero. In fact the honest negro more than 
once contemplated going to Rhode Island and enlisting in Col. 
Angel’s regiment of blacks, for the purpose, as he expressed it, 
“ oh ^venging de deth oh Massa JVat^nfi’ which he purposed to 
do by slaying the ingrate who betrayed him. His inability to 
endure the fatigues of the journey, and his aversion, as he declared, 
“ to dem leetle cloth-housen wot let in de cold so in winter ^* — 
probably kept him in Coventry, where his bones now moulder. 

12 


106 The American Spy, 

It became known in the American camp by a deserter, just 
before Wright left it for Coventry, who had betrayed our hero. 
Overhearing the messenger say that Samuel Hale had been the 
means of his friend’s death, crazy John was observed to clench 
his fist and walk off. The first opportunity he had to speak to 
Wright unobserved, he desired to go with him to the army and 
seek an occasion to revenge, if possible, the death of his friend, 
and an insult he felt had once been given by the royalist to him- 
self. He appeared more rational than he had done in several 
years, and Wright, who knew little of him and desired a com- 
panion, if he was somewhat foolish, told him he could go, suppo- 
sing, of course, he would get the consent of his parents to do it. 
It chanced also, that Zeb, who had formed an acquaintance with 
crazy John, had been sent on an errand the same day to Coven- 
try. He, too, as his dear Missus” was so wo-begone, now 
caught the spirit of revenge, and was easily persuaded by John 
to accompany him on his singular mission — singular, because 
they could not know at what point to seek their intended victim. 

Agreeable to the arrangement of crazy John, who now, strange 
as it may appear, exhibited little of his idocy, himself and Zeb 
were to start in the night and proceed on the road towards Hart- 
ford, to be overtaken by Wright, where they would not be likely 
to be known. Fitch’s slave was moving betimes, and before day- 
light, made the signal which called out his companion. The 
mysterious disappearance of John, who was not in the habit of 


Or FreedorrCs Early Sacrifice, 


107 


going any great distance from home, was the occasion of much 
distress among his friends; so much so that that part of Lake 
Wangombaug nearest his father’s dwelling was raked for his 
body; somnambulism, although in its infancy at that period, being 
thought by some the only key to unlock the mystery of his exit. 
It was several weeks before it became known in Coventry that 
Zeb had vanished the very same night on which crazy John had 
“ stepped out,” but when the fact was established it was readily 
conjectured that the strange boys had gone together; on which 
account the mother of the idiot concluded to defer putting on 
mourning apparel for the present. 

Wright, having been liberally compensated for executing the 
trust of his sainted master, left Coventry and overtook his com- 
panions early in the afternoon, and the trio journeyed on, some- 
times by a chance ride in the ox-cart of a farmer, but usually on 
foot, to Hartford, and from thence accompanying, by the most 
eligible route, a corps of newly recruited infantry, to West 
Point. From the latter place the boys soon after proceeded to 
join the American army in New Jersey. It being understood in 
camp what mission crazy John and his friend had undertaken^ 
many smiled at the idea of its accomplishment, but all pitied 
them, and they were allowed to follow the fortunes of their 
country’s defenders in the capacity of waiters and hangers on, the 
latter being one in which they could go and come at their plea- 
sure, or fight on their own hook or let it alone. 


108 The American Spj/, 

Lieut. Hale, whose conscience for his unfeeling conduct towards 
his kinsman became in his sober moments his owm accuser, was 
engaged in the battle of Princeton. When the air was most 
vocal with the shrill song of war’s leaden minstrel, a voice was 
heard almost in advance of the American lines to exclaim — ‘‘ I 
tell you there he is, Zeh — I tell you there he is! ha, ha, ha, ha!” 
The sentence closed with the crack of a musket aimed by the 
speaker, which weapon not five minutes before had fallen from 
the hands of a British soldier. Just at this moment a body of 
the enemy rallied and made a stand, when Washington’s men 
temporarily fell back. The fear of a bayonet-charge sent the 
Coventry boys, who were near together, into the rear. The battle 
now raged fiercely for a time, and then came a shout above the 
din of arms — it was Liberty’s voice — the British were in full 
retreat. Among the fallen might be seen the scullions and sut- 
lers of the victorious army plundering the dead — the waiters of 
American officers taking care of wounded friends; and two indi- 
viduals, a little republic in themselves, answerable to no one, and 
at war on their own account, running hither and thither as if 
frantic in the pursuit of some object. r ; 

“ I tell you here he is, Zeb! I tell you here he is! ha, ha, ha, 
ha!” shouted crazy John, at a little distance from where he had 
fired at his victim, scarcely an hour before. Sure enough, he stood 
gazing at the object of his search. Mortally wounded, the Tory 
captain had been abandoned by his friends in their flight; and to 












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109 


Or Freedom’s Early Sacrifice, 

gain temporary shelter, as the weather was piercing cold, he had 
crept into a pig-stye. Weak from the loss of blood, benumbed 
by the chilling blast, and tormented by a thousand phantoms his 
now dying state had aroused, he was startled by that fearful 
laugh he had heard at the moment he received his wound. Could 
it be the laugh of the poor, unoffending lad he had once in a fit 
of ill-humor, so provokingly called to his face, “ the biggest fool 
on earth?” He opened his blood-shot eyes, and lo! there stood 
the object of every good man’s pity — now less unfortunate than 
himself. As Zeb came up and observed that the Tory was still 
alive, he claimed the satisfaction of finishing him. Seeing the 
gun in the idiot’s hand transferred to the black, the tenant of the 
stye raised his hand imploringly, and said “ John, my good boy 
is that you? Have pity on me — don’t let that fellow shoot me!” 

“ You didn’t have no pity on the Cap’n, I tell you, and golly, 
you don’t desarve any — ha, ha, ha, ha.” 

“ No, dat he don’t,” said Zeb, cocking the piece, “for you 
know he’s made de old Deacon crazy’s a loon — den dar’s poor 
Lucy, she looks so kinder pale and sorryful all de time, sittin’ 
lone and lookin’ tudder way — den dar’s all de rest ob um; how 
you tink dey look?” he asked, raising the gun to his shoulder. 

“ 0! mercy, good John; 0! mercy, dear Zeb; is that you? O! 
don’t let him fire, John; 0! quarters! quarters! pity! pity! don’t 
fire — I’ll give you money!” said the wounded officer, his head 
now sinking upon his breast. 


110 


The American Spy, 


In the midst of the Tory’s appeal, Zeb snapped the gun and 
it missed fire; seeing which his comrade grew impatient lest they 
might not overtake the troops, and exclaimed, “ I tell you to fire, 
Zeb; I tell you to fire! for the darned Tory didn’t never pity no- 
body; he called me a fool, and then called the good money digger 
zn imposter, ?iiid he killed poor Cap’n and we’ll kill him, 
ha, ha, ha, ha.” 

While the negro was repriming the musket, for the wind had 
blown the powder from the pan, the royalist turned his blood- 
shot eyes once more upon his foes, raised his hand imploringly 
and faintly articulated the word At this instant 

crazy John shouted — The plaguy British wouldn’t left him, 
Zeb, if he’d been worth savin’, so fire away, I tell yon-— fire 
away; ha, ha, ha, ha.” 

“ I’ll fire,” said the colored hero, gist soon’s I can ; cause the 
Cap’n was better’n a hog pen full ob gis such uns as this 
drunken dog.” At the close of this sentence, bang! went the 
gun, and eternity received the Tory’s spirit. 

For a seeming want of pity in the two boys for thus finishing 
the dying ingrate, who, like thousands of his fellows, was in arms 
against the defenders of the soil which gave him birth, we make 
no apology. They had followed the fortunes of war solely to 
accomplish his destruction; for this had they endured fatigues, 
hunger and cold, and now had they consummated their purpose. 
Acting upon the principle that ‘ to the victor belong the spoils of 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice. 


Ill 


the vanquished,’ they took from their victim his sword, watch and 
a few shillings in money — lawful prizes in war, and hurried on to 
join the victorious arms of their countrymen. In camp they were 
treated with extreme kindness w^hen it became known by the 
effects taken from the person of Lieut. Hale, that they had not 
only discovered hut slain him. Disposing of their sword and 
watch, the boys were thus furnished with the means of defraying 
their expenses home, whither they journeyed with a body of 
troops, whose term of service had expired in January, 1777. On 
arriving in Coventry the runaways were treated with great be- 
nignity by the patriotic citizens, but none greeted them more joy- 
fully than Job and his German friend, at the successful termina- 
tion of their enterprise — now first disclosed, to the astonishment 
of the neighborhood. 

Mr. Fitch readily forgave Zeb for causing him so much trouble, 
while the mother of crazy John, who looked upon her unfortunate 
son as one risen from the dead, was overjoyed, and expressed her 
gratitude not only at his safe return, but that she had not procured 
any black crape. The affection of a mother for her offspring seems 
greatly increased by any constitutional or early misfortune. Much 
of the time during his absence, crazy John had exhibited but little 
of the idiot excepting when under great excitement; but on arriv- 
ing at home and beholding familiar objects, his idiotism to a great 
extent returned, with this peculiarity, however, that instead of 
his former expression when his mind was wandering of — tell 


112 


The American Spj/y 


you the world goes round,” uttering which he never failed to 
swing his arm if possible; pointing directly forward he now ex- 
claimed with marked emphasis, “ I tell you there he is, Zeb; I 
tell you there he is!” Long did the poor fellow live to boast of 
his Revolutionary exploit, and fish around the shores of lake 
Wangombaug, after millions who set out in life when he did, 
with prospects unclouded, had passed from the stage of exist- 
ence ‘to that bourne from whence no traveler returns.’ 


CHAPTER X. 


“ The face was young still; but its happy look 
Was gone; the cheek had lost its color, and 
The lip its smile; the light that once had played 
Like sunshine in those eyes, was quenched and dim, 

For tears had wasted it ; her long dark hair 
Floated upon her forehead, in loose waves, 

Unbraided; and upon her pale thin hand 

Her head was bent as if in pain; no trace 

Was left of that sweet gaiety, which once 

Seemed as if grief could darken not — as care 

Would pass and leave behind no memory”. — Landon. 

War, the executive of the world’s great slaughter-house, ever 
brings with it dread attendants; and although many, particularly 
such as can not be compelled to unfurl its bloody banner, may in a 
time of peace almost invite it as a state to be desired; still few, 
who have witnessed its inroads in the human family, its blight- 
ing curse on the morals of society, its great destruction of social 
relations and kindred ties; or few who can in prospective dis- 
criminate between the horrors of war or the blessings of peace, 
will, without weighing every consequence, involve that country 
in ignoble conflict whose prosperity demands peace. 

At length, after a long and doubtful contest, the war for Amer- 
15 


114 


The American Spy, 


ican freedom of thought and act, one of the few wars justifiable 
by even one of the parties, was ended; and the minstrel of peace 
again tuned her lyre over the graves of thousands of great and 
brave men fallen; the plow of the husbandman once more moved 
in its furrow of thrift; the hammer of the mechanic again re- 
sounded upon the anvil; and the chisel sought its mortise. Nearly 
four years before the dawn of this most welcome period, the Ger- 
man Staudt bade a long farewell to his Windham county friends, 
and journeyed westward, where he might better improve his geo- 
logical and chemical talent. He ceased not his wanderings until 
he arrived in the beautiful valley of Schoharie, where, finding 
a friendly people who could converse with him in his native lan- 
guage, and an exhaustless mine of pyrites which he believed he 
could work to profit, he became a permanent resident. At a good 
old age did this mirth-making foreigner — called by some the 
money-digger, by others the money-maker, and by all who knew 
him clever Hans — descend to the chambers of that ‘home,’ which 
though narrow its portals, receives the world’s dying millions. 
As his last request, he wished the silken purse presented him by 
Lucy Ripley, whose virtues and misfortunes he often dwelt upon 
with flowing tears, to be buried with him; and when placed in 
his coffin, the hand of a friend laid the keepsake upon his breast. 

Our heroine, like the tender plant overtaken by early frost or 
crushed by some leaden weight, seemed withering under the terri- 
ble blow destiny had meted to her, but religion whichpasseth 


Or Freedom's Early Sacrifice, 115 

knowledge, that trust in Jehovah which had sustained her heroic 
lover in the hour of trial, came also to her relief; and she recov- 
ered comfortable health; still the rose had left her cheek, and the 
vivacity and cheerfulness of youth were gone. She desired to 
live only that she might prove a comfort to her parents, or dis- 
pense blessings to the heart-stricken, whose misfortunes through 
poverty rendered them objects of charity. 

For hours might the thoughtful Lucy have been seen alone, 
gazing with evident admiration on the works of nature, and hold- 
ing sweet communion, in spirit, with him, who, in his almighty 
hand sustains the vast universe; and who in his guardian care 
watches over the victim of war with a germ immortal, and the 
wounded bird that perishes forever with its mysterious plumage. 
Quitting the society of the world, which had now lost its charms 
for her, she removed to the romantic and then wild banks of the 
Housatonic, and there ended her brief existence in deeds of charity 
to a remnant of that Indian tribe after whom the stream was 
called, as an exemplary Christian of the Moravian sisterhood. 

The father of our hero, who became insane on learning the 
melancholy fate of his favorite son, lingered out several years of 
sickly existence; but he could not be restored to reason, and ‘in 
sorrow did his gray hairs descend to the grave.’ 

Young Fitch, the classmate of our hero, who made the science 
of law his profession, in the spring of 1779, led to Hymen’s 
altar the lovely Elizabeth Hale. He settled for life at Hartford, 


116 


The American Spy, 


in which city his amiable wife became as much admired for her 
great personal worth, as he had formerly been in her native 
town. 

The charming Julia Rose, who so fortunately rejected a suitor 
because a Tory, began on the 17th of October, 1780 — the very 
day on which the mercenaries of Britain ravished the beautiful 
valley of Schoharie, then a frontier settlement of Western New 
York — to impart fragrance to Maj. Boynton, a worthy continen* 
tal officer of her native state; and the writer is happy to add — 
long did that choice flower bloom in Tolland county, not only 
gracing the circles of beauty and fashion; but setting an exam- 
ple, as an industrious and tidy housekeeper, worthy the imita- 
tion of not a few fastidious, kitchen-hating housewives of the 
present day. The last account we can give of her is, she was 
seen knitting a small red stocking, her knitting-pins moving with 
a velocity that made the beholder stare; but the best part of the 
joke is, she was surrounded by fovr little humming-birds , each 
of which in turn had sipped the nectar of life from that same 
sweet Rose, 












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